Lemonade Heart
by Alaska Is Beautiful
Summary: Nobody is perfect. Not even Mesa High king, Ray Beech. Not even musical revolutionary Stella Yamada. It's about time the two learn that it's okay to have insecurities. That with people to back you up always, you can happily be anything, even imperfect.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this has been edited. I finally learned how to do this...It's much fun (or maybe I'm just easily amused).**

**Anyway. I don't own anything. I'm just a Rayella lover trying my hardest to do what's right (make Rayella more available to the world)**

**And I hope you guys enjoy this. It's 2:41 in the morning, but I don't care because I just had to finish with this chapter. It took a few turns I really didn't expect...**

**SO...**

**HERE...**

**GOES...**

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><p>"Oh, great," Wen said as Lemonade Mouth walked into Mesa High for their sophomore year.<p>

"What?" Olivia asked quietly, though she already knew.

"That jerk!" Stella yelled, fists clenched, eyes blaring.

"Calm down, Stella," Mo said.

Charlie grabbed Stella's arm. "Yeah. This is our first day back. You really don't need detention."

"The nerve!" Stella yelled, ignoring her friends. "This is going to end…_right now_."

Everyone else moaned. There was no stopping Stella now, they knew. Scott sighed. "Whatever," he said dejectedly.

Stella marched over to a certain Ray Beech, the most obnoxious boy on campus. He was currently bullying a freshman who was clearly scared out of his mind, knees shaking, almost to tears. "What is your _problem_?" she hissed, stepping in between Ray and the frightened freshman.

Ray looked down at Stella, smirking. "Oh, if it isn't Loser Mouth ready to start her sophomore year. What?" he asked mockingly. "Want detention on first day again? Ready to make a huge scene? Sorry, Yamada. Assembly isn't until tomorrow."

Stella scoffed. She had gotten over letting the bully bother her. She had grown to find his comebacks highly predictable and uncreative. "Actually, I came to talk to this freshman." She turned to the new student. "So, what's your name?"

The kid looked up at her tentatively, almost as if he expected her to bully him as well. "Jackson," he whispered.

"Well, Jackson," Stella said, "we don't have a welcoming committee, but I'd be happy to tell you a thing or two about Mesa High." She smiled as Jackson perked up. "I was a freshman last year, and—aside from the occasional wannabe bully—" she cut her eyes toward Ray, "there's nothing to worry about. You see, Jackson," she put her arms around his shoulder and steered him towards her friends, "people like that jerk Ray Beech—the one dumb enough to try and bully you—despite being major jocks and somewhat good students—which is necessary to be on the soccer team—are absolutely nothing here. Worthless. And—to top it all off—you don't even need to worry about them. If they approach you, all you have to do is walk away. They lost all their power last year."

"Really?" Jackson asked.

"Definitely." They reached the rest of Lemonade Mouth. "Oh, these are my friends." She started to introduce them, but Jackson interrupted.

"Wait! I know who you are!" He exclaimed. "You're—You're Lemonade Mouth!"

Stella and her friends laughed.

"Yeah," Charlie replied. "That's us."

"I love you guys. I went to see you at Madison Square Garden!"

"Really?" Olivia asked. She was still coming to terms with the fact that people actually supported and believed in her.

"Thank you so much," Mo said.

"No way. I knew you guys went here, but I thought you would have gone to a private school or something by now."

"And miss meeting awesome people like you?" Wen asked. "No way."

"Yeah," Stella added. "This is where we belong."

"Oh, and thanks for helping me over there. I was so scared. But that's Ray, right?"

"Yeah. He's totally harmless."

Jackson just stood there, staring at the group as if he couldn't believe that they were there.

"So…?" Scott asked, wanting to initiate more conversation but not knowing what he could actually say.

"So…Got any other classmates you're on the lookout for? That you were supposed to meet?" Stella asked.

"Oh, yeah!" Jackson exclaimed, looking around. "My best friends Garret and Nevel. I was supposed to meet them over the—" he looked over towards Ray, who was bullying two other freshmen, supposedly Garret and Nevel.

"Unbelievable," Stella whispered through clenched teeth. Didn't Ray realize that his tirade was over? Didn't he know that as long as she was around, she'd fight for the underdogs? Did he understand that he was nothing when up against her? She marched over to Ray yet again. "BEECH!" she yelled, not caring about being civil this time. She had handled him and Jackson quite well, she thought; but it was time for Ray and the whole school to know that his reign as school king was over.

"What do you want, loser?"

Stella laughed. "What do _I _want?" she asked.

Ray just stood there, waiting for her to retaliate. When she didn't, he replied. "Yeah. What do _you_ want?"

She shrugged. "Oh, nothing. Just to make an announcement."

"Why don't you just go over there with your loser friends and your new loser freshman boyfriend and leave me and the rest of the school alone?" he sneered.

"Actually, that's what I came here to talk about." She walked past him then stopped and turned around. "Only, I'm going to talk about a different loser." She stepped on top of a bench a few feet away. "Attention all Mesa High students," she called. "Hey! You! Everyone! I have an announcement to make!" She continued to yell until the majority of students had gathered around her, including her amused group of friends.

"What is she doing?" asked Mo.

"Who knows," Olivia replied laughing.

"That's our Stel," Charlie said.

"Our crazy, Stel," Wen added.

"Looks like Ray isn't going to be happy about this," Scott said.

They turned their attention back to Stella.

"I'm pretty sure most of you know our _friend_, Ray. You know. Ray _Beech_. Total jerk. Thinks he runs the school. Yeah, that guy." She pointed at Ray, who was turning red in anger. Of course, he was too proud to walk away, and Stella knew that.

"Well, Ray here used to be the quote unquote "king" of Mesa High. He used to bully everyone…and _get away with it_!" She stopped and looked at Ray for a bit, smiling as he rolled his eyes at her.

"Well, that was before the rest of Mesa High got some common sense and realized that Ray was just an insecure jerk who needed to make other people feel bad because he didn't have the mental capacity to find an intelligent way to amuse himself. Yeah, well. Now he's back. And apparently, he wants to start the whole cycle over again." She glared down at him.

"Well, TOO BAD!" She laughed. "You see, fellow students, this is how Ray's cycle works. He can only be a bully if people are afraid of him. If people don't stand up for themselves. And since the freshmen are new here, they don't know the rules. So Ray here—our poor little antagonist—thinks he can pick on them." Stella smirked.

"Well…HE CAN'T! So dear, freshmen. Dear EVERYONE! This is the only rule of Mesa High: IGNORE RAY BEECH! HE'S A WANNABE AND A JERK! NOT TO MENTION A SORE LOSER! DON'T GIVE HIM THE POWER TO HURT YOU! HURT HIM!"

This started an uproar of cheers from everyone. People started booing at Ray. Furious and humiliated, Ray glared up at Stella, arms crossed. She smiled sweetly down at him. "Karma, dear Ray," she mouthed, knowing she wouldn't be heard above the crowd.

"Well, you know what?" Ray screamed, teeth clenched, climbing up the bench and shoving Stella to the side. "Don't listen to a single thing this Loser Mouth says!"

"Oh, shut up, Ray!" someone from the crowd yelled.

"Yeah!" one of Jackson's friends yelled from the front. The other giggled nervously.

Stella laughed in his face, shoving him back down. "Sorry, King Beech. Your time has passed."

Ray lost it then as the crowd started laughing. "Shut up!" he yelled. He started shoving kids out of his way. "Shut up!"

The whole crowd was laughing at him. And he _didn't_ take being laughed at. He wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of watching him run away. He was too strong for that. So he shoved kids out of his way as he, red as a tomato, left the scene. The laughter didn't stop, even as he pushed kids on the ground. They continued laughing as if they thought their bruises were hilarious. He walked up the stairs into the building and opened the door, but stopped and turned right before going in. He saw Stella, bowing as everyone cheered her on. He glared across the crowd and noticed one person not cheering. His former best friend, Scott Pickett. Scott caught his eye, staring as if trying to express something. Ray wouldn't let anyone see him in a weak state, so he hardened his glare at the one who betrayed him—for his worst enemy's best friend—and turned inside with a violent huff.

Mo noticed Scott's changed demeanour. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Nothing, I guess."

She frowned. "You sure?"

"No," he sighed.

She wrapped her arms around him. "You don't feel like talking about it, but I have a feeling it has to do with Ray."

"Yeah." He smiled. "Since when have you known me so well?"

She grinned up at him. "Women's intuition."

The rest of the band, completely oblivious to their exchange, continued cheering Stella on with the rest of the student body. Eventually, after taking many bows, Stella jumped off the bench, and—taking Garret and Nevel with her and issuing many high-fives to the crowd—made her way back to her friends.

"I think that made a statement," she said, matter-of-factly as Olivia hugged her.

"That was so _brave_!" Olivia replied, looking down at her proudly.

"Not really. I just did something everyone else in this school has been dying to do for a while. Nothing to it."

"I'd watch out if I were you," Mo said warningly.

"Yeah, stay close to Principal Brenigan for a while," Charlie added.

"Why?" Stella asked.

"Because Ray's going to be on the war path. Revenge times…well…a lot," Wen put in.

Stella laughed. "I don't think Ray's going to be doing much of anything for a while around here," she replied. "Plus, what would standing next to Brenigan do? He hates me, remember? He'd be happy to see his star soccer captain chewing me out."

Garret and Nevel stood behind Jackson, staring unblinkingly at Lemonade Mouth. Stella turned towards them. "So, how's your first day so far?"

They looked at each other then back at her. "Uh, _amazing_!" Nevel exclaimed.

"Best day ever!" Garret said. He looked at Jackson. "Bro, do you know who we're talking to?"

"The best _band_ ever!" Nevel cut in.

"Yeah?" Stella asked. "Well, thanks for the support."

"No, thanks for talking to us," Garret said.

"People don't really talk to us."

"Well," Wen said, walking in between Garret and Nevel and putting his arms around them. "That's about to change."

"How?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, how?" Charlie said, stepping closer.

Olivia, Mo, and Scott exchanged curious glances.

Stella looked at Wen, who grinned. She stared a bit longer, then grinned with him.

"What?" Olivia asked.

"If Wen's thinking what I'm thinking, then we're about to completely alter the social order of Mesa High."

"Didn't we do that last year?" Charlie asked.

"Kind of," Wen replied. "But…" he motioned at Stella to finish. She was better at explaining crazy ideas than him. Everyone huddled around her.

"We've made people accept different classifications. We've made people accept their classification and still be accepted by others. But we've never changed the classifications. Until now, that is." She smirked across the group.

"So…how do you plan to do that?" Mo put in. "Even if we shun the jocks, the people who play sports will always be known as the jocks. And the people who can't play sports can't take that name."

Stella seemed right on the verge of a reply; then she frowned and wrinkled her brow in thought. She looked at Mo. "I mean, you don't have to crush every idea, Mohini."

Mo smiled. "Sorry, Stella, but let's not get too rash too soon. We can do a lot of things, but this isn't one of them."

Stella frowned more deeply.

Wen frowned as well. "Okay," he said. "We'll get back to you on that."

"For now," Olivia said, "let's just make it through the first day of high school."

Scott laughed, finally joining the conversation. "Yeah. _That_ would be a good thing."

"Come on, guys," Stella said, walking towards the front of the school. "It's time for some freshmen fun."

Jackson, Garret, and Nevel shuffled behind her, talking to Charlie and followed closely by Wen and Olivia. Mo and Scott trailed behind.

"Hey, you know what's weird?" Mo asked.

"I probably don't," Scott replied.

"Principal Brenigan hasn't showed up. I honestly thought he was going to end Stella's lecture before she'd even got on the bench."

Scott stopped and looked around, realizing that his girlfriend was right. Brenigan usually was the first one at school, especially on the first day to scope out the new troublemakers…and—in Stella's case—keep tabs on the old ones. "Wonder what happened. Maybe he found trouble on the other side of school. People do really stupid things under the soccer bleachers…and a lot of other places around back."

Mo looked up at him, then her eyes widened in understanding. "Oh." She started walking up, gently tugging him with her. "Well…maybe," she said doubtfully.

"I have a feeling you don't believe me."

"What makes you think that?" Mo replied, feigning shock.

"Oh, I don't know," he answered. "Men's intuition."

Mo laughed. "Yeah, right."

"What?"

"I'm just thinking about something Olivia said to Stella and me one day. She said men will get common sense when pigs gain the ability to burst into flames unfathomed and fly simultaneously."

"Well, somewhere in the world a pig is having a major milestone."

"Whatever," Mo laughed, walking in the building with Scott, ready to tackle a new year at the school that made everything she'd been through recently and would go through in the future possible.

"There you guys are!" Olivia exclaimed from across the hall as the two stepped through the room. She suddenly stopped and blushed, all too aware of how loud her exclamation had been and how many people were staring at her wonderingly.

Mo laughed as she embraced her best friend. "Don't worry. It really wasn't that loud. It was just loud coming from you."

Olivia's blush deepened. "Sorry. You two just disappeared. I was hoping that you hadn't run off. I've had enough spontaneity for one day."

"Agreed," Mo replied, hugging Olivia tighter.

"Where's Stella?" Scott asked. He noticed Wen and Charlie talking in the place Olivia had been. Charlie looked over and began to walk in their direction with Wen.

"She went to help Garret, Nevel, and Jackson settle. Hopefully, she isn't turning them into mini versions of herself."

Mo rolled her eyes. "_That_ would be a nightmare."

"For Brenigan and for us," Scott added.

"Speaking of Principal Brenigan," Wen said as he reached the rest, "I haven't seen him at all today. And you know he's always on the lookout for us."

"Yeah, Mo and I were talking about that earlier."

"I hope nothing bad has happened to him," Olivia said.

Charlie laughed. "Good thing Stella's not around. She'd think you were turning on her."

Scott laughed along with the rest of the band, turning his head as something caught his eye. It was Ray, stalking angrily through the halls. Many students were snickering at him; and although his glares did smother their noises a bit, they didn't stop. Ray most definitely wasn't used to _not_ having _complete_ control over the people around him. He tried to catch his former friend's eye, but Ray didn't see. He spun to turn a corner, nearly colliding with a very triumphant Stella Yamada.

"Watch where you're going, _Beech_," Stella hissed loudly.

Ray's face turned red, not out of embarrassment, Scott knew, but out of pure ire. He leaned in close to Stella, millimetres from her face. Scott couldn't tell what he was saying, but Stella's grin dimmed just a bit. Her face then contorted into what he could only describe as…well…he couldn't really describe it. She stuck her finger in his face accusingly, lowering her voice as well. Scott knew this wouldn't end well.

He didn't notice, but the rest of the band had turned to the scene as well. Mo, of course, had noticed his attention being diverted and had notified everyone else. In fact, it seemed that the entire school had stopped what they were doing to watch the encounter. No one could hear a single word exchanged between them, but everyone could feel the anger emanating from them both.

It seemed as if that moment had been frozen in time. And somehow, the bystanders had been teleported into the near future. Before anyone could even fully comprehend what was happening, the two adversaries collected themselves and calmly walked away in opposite directions.

The band stared after Stella, in shock. Mo turned to Olivia. "What just happened?"

"I don't know," Scott sighed. "But it couldn't have been good."

"And the fact that they are being so cool about it," Wen stated, "can only mean that something terrible is going to result."

"I'm going to go talk to her," Mo said.

Olivia grabbed her arm. "That may not be the best idea."

Mo scoffed. "What do you mean? Stella obviously needs someone to talk to about this. We can't let her bottle this all inside. She'll explode." Her eyes widened. "And that's probably exactly what Ray wants her to do. That jerk!"

She didn't notice her boyfriend stiffen slightly with her insult. However, Charlie did. He raised his eyebrows. In response, Scott just shrugged. "I have to get to class," he said, ducking from Charlie's stare and heading in the direction Ray had previously gone.

"Oh, yeah. Me too!" Mo quickly ran after Stella.

Olivia sighed. Wen gave her a sympathetic look. "Looks like Mo's off to see Stell after all."

"Yeah," Olivia replied. "I should…" she motioned after her friend.

"Definitely," Wen said, shrugging. "See you…around…"

"Catch you, later, Liv," Charlie said.

She smiled back at them before turning off to follow Mo in her motherly rampage.

Wen patted Charlie on the back. "I guess this is the part where I look around and say it's good to be back."

Charlie laughed. "And then I'd have to burst your bubble and say that high school is high school and it still sucks."

"Yeah."

"But," Charlie continued. "This is the best first day…EVER."

"Agreed," Wen chuckled.

The two walked down the halls together, greeting their old friends and encouraging new, more tentative students. Happy to be temporarily distracted from the dramas they already knew were bound to catch up with them soon.

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><p><strong>So...How was it? Please review and send me feedback. I take all kinds of criticism and even though I like to label myself as a person who doesn't care about others' opinions, I enjoy the fact that people care enough to actually put me on story alert and review my work.<strong>

** I'm on Christmas break, so all I have to do is write. Therefore, I'm hoping to be writing and uploading rapidly.**

**Kanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again! Sorry if this was a long wait. It's 3:35 in the morning, and I am posting this chapter. But anyway, this is in Stella's Point of View. It might not be as good as Chapter 1. I think I'll be alternating between third person omniscient and Stella's (and possibly later on Ray's) point of view. I wrote all of this in a sudden muse, so I realize it has problems.**

**So...**

**Here we go (ha ha unintended LM song reference)**

***Disclaimer: pretty self explanatory, right? I don't own. You don't own (unless you're Mark Peter Hughes which would be awesome). We all don't own, but we still scream for Rayella!***

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><p><strong>STELLA YAMADA'S POV:<strong>

I put on the calmest face I could muster as I walked away from Ray. It was not easy, but I was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me angry ever again. After what he had said to me…I just couldn't take it.

"Stella!" I heard Mo calling after me. "_Stella_!"

I rolled my eyes. I loved Mo, but I really didn't have time for her probing. I kept walking, taking care to keep my face free of emotion.

"Stella," Mo yelled warningly. "Don't ignore me!"

I couldn't stop. I needed to think get away and think through everything.

"Stella." Olivia had joined Mo. "Stella, _please_. Talk to us."

Sighing, I turned around. I couldn't just ignore everything.

Olivia and Mo must have seen through my peaceful façade because they slowed upon seeing my face. They tentatively approached me, as if they were afraid I'd blow at any moment. In any other situation, it would have made me laugh; but it wasn't the time.

"Stella," Mo said softly, wrapping an arm around me, "what happened?"

"What do you mean?" I replied. Maybe I could still play it off.

"What do _you_ mean?" Olivia asked. "Everyone in the hall saw the silent fall out you had with Ray."

"And it sure doesn't seem like you converted to friendship," Mo added.

"Look, guys," I cut them off before they could say anything else. "I'm not really in the mood to talk about this."

Olivia and Mo exchanged glances. I groaned. Whenever they looked at each other in that way, it meant that they were joining forces to get what they wanted.

Mo smiled. I knew it was over. Olivia knew it, too. "Come on, Stella. Tell us."

Despite my inevitable failure, I tried to prevaricate. "Isn't the bell about to ring?"

"Who cares?" Mo said.

"I would say I do, but I really don't…so…"

Olivia and Mo stood expectantly in front of me, but I couldn't get anything out. I wanted to tell them…kind of…but I just felt that now was not the time.

I spotted Wen and Charlie going down the hall and noticed them carefully avoiding us. Of course, there was no way I was going to be chewed out while they were off scotch free. "Hey Wen! Charlie!" I called, waving to them dramatically.

Charlie saw me first and almost headed in the opposite direction—smart boy. Thankfully, Wen—sympathetic boy…or boy that wanted to be near Olivia—caught him and steered him in our direction.

Mo rolled her eyes. "Okay, Stella," she said as the boys reached us. "But this is definitely not over."

"What isn't over?" Charlie asked.

Wen laughed. "One thing I've learned in all my experience—"

I snorted. "_What_ experience?"

He gave me a look, then turned back to Charlie. "—is that when a girl ends a discussion with another girl with 'this isn't over' then you, as a guy, should stay out of it."

Olivia laughed. Mo crossed her arms. "That's not always the case."

"You would be the one to say that, Mo," I said. Everyone laughed. She pouted for a bit, then gave into the mirth.

This was why I love Lemonade Mouth. This was why they are my best friends. For a moment, I forgot everything that had happened that day. I didn't think about Ray when I was with them. They made me feel happy, complete, and safe. We could laugh about anything—do anything—together.

Eventually, the laughter subsided. Mo looked around. "I better go find Scott. We have first period together."

"Yeah," Charlie said. "I've got to go."

Wen followed. They had the same class as well.

"Well, Liv," I said, "Catch you during lunch.

"Alright," she replied. We parted.

I had Biology first period. Nothing against it, but I really didn't feel like being reminded of my parents at school. Actually, some parts of Biology I thought were interesting. I guess it's a part of the genes. But most of the things we had to learn I found completely pointless. I mean, who cares? I don't even care enough to think up of examples for what I don't care about.

But, I had to go to class anyway. So, being the strong, independent sophomore I am, I walked into the room seconds before the ball rang and surveyed the room for any available seat.

"Ms. Yamada," Mrs. Stervlinn announced as she turned around and spotted me. She rolled her eyes, and, seeing how this was my first class with her, I guessed my reputation had been around the teacher's lounge. "Thrilled to be graced with your presence this morning."

"Yeah, thanks. Back at you," I replied. This seemed like the start of an amazing relationship.

She rolled her eyes again. "There's a seat right over there. Please occupy it so I can begin my lesson as planned."

I turned to the seat she gestured to. Back of the class, by the window. Perfect. I started walking down the aisle then froze. I noticed Ray Beech sitting in the seat right next to mine. He was looking away, thankfully, and I quickly regained my composure, but now everything I'd managed to forget came rushing back, anger rising, threatening to spew out of me.

Ever the master of disguise, I chocked it back down and took my seat as if Ray wasn't even there. Throughout the entire class period, I didn't even acknowledge his existence. It wasn't all that hard. Mrs. Stervlinn seemed intent on testing everyone's knowledge of the terrible subject of biology—like a devastating pre-test that no one had any hope of passing. After all of the incorrect answers, I concluded two things: 1) that I would never in my life have any positive thoughts for biology ever again, and 2) that Mrs. Stervlinn had a serious eye problem—one that forced her to roll her eyes every five seconds.

When the bell rang for second period, everyone rushed out of biology. I took my time. As bad as biology was, Geometry could only prove to be worse. Even my mom hated math; so I was, by default, doomed.

I was the last to leave the class; Ray had been one of the first. I didn't realize it until he was gone, but the whole time I'd been beside him, I'd been holding my breath, waiting for something terrible to happen. But, I somehow kept my mind off of what he'd said to me. When he left, it came back immediately; but I felt a bit stronger, like I could handle it a little better.

I walked down the halls somewhat dejectedly, even though I didn't know why I was feeling that way. It couldn't have been Ray. He was a heartless jerk, and I'd dealt with him enough last year to counter that; but something…something was different. And whatever it was, I kind of felt obligated to find out.

I passed Scott in the hall. He looked worried about something as well. Instinct told me it was Ray. I felt a pang of guilt. It was small, barely noticeable; but it was still there. I easily shock it from my mind, however. A girl could only have enough pity for Ray Beech in a lifetime, and I was pretty sure I'd maxed out my allowance.

Geometry proved to be even worse than anyone could have possibly anticipated. There was nothing worse than a terrible teacher who was convinced of her "amazing" skills. Mrs. Upriite, my teacher, seemed nice enough; but she just didn't teach in a way I could understand. So, I tuned her out quite nicely. Olivia was in my class, only she had snagged a front row seat while I acquired one in the darkest corner of the back of the room. I could tell Liv wasn't too fond of her teaching either. She had a small book hidden under our gigantic geometry textbook. Mo had bought her a dainty poetry book over the weekend, so I knew what she was reading. At that point, I was wishing I had a book…and I'm not very fond of reading.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion. World history and French went right over my head even though I had a better time in those classes than my first two. Fifth period turned out to be the highlight of my day so far: Honours English. Even though I was struggling maintaining a B average in all of my other classes, English cliqued for me. Not the reading part, mind you; but the writing. I liked writing. I liked it enough to get into an honours class. Of course, I had it with Mo. She was in honours and AP everything. Since I actually paid attention in English, I sat right behind Mo by the window. Our teacher, Mrs. Mearhood, was great. I could tell I was going to like her. She seemed very chill. She was one of the younger teachers, so that played a role; but it was more than that. I just felt drawn to her.

Our first assignment was a journal entry. "Write about anything you want," Mrs. Mearhood told us. "Or just anything you need to get out there. Don't worry," she smiled. "I won't go posting anything on the school website. Your secrets are safe with me. But try not to tell me too much at one time. If you robbed a bank this summer; and they haven't caught you, please don't give me all the details. I just got this job, and I don't think they offer it in prison."

Murmurs of laughter settled around the room. I could tell everyone really liked this class, but first day jitters generally don't leave until the second month…or at least, they didn't for me. I pride myself in being guarded—in appearing to be indestructible—but actually, I'm just a girl. I have emotions, even if I don't show them. I have insecurities. And I have problems and trials. The biggest one I was facing at the moment was Ray. So, I had my topic.

I opened my journal and was about to start writing when Mrs. Mearhood walked to the front of the class again. "Oh," she exclaimed. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I know a lot of you are in the middle of writing, but I just wanted to say, don't limit yourself. You don't have to write in your journals like a typical person would. That's why they're _your_ journals. Express yourselves however you want. I'm not judging." She smiled again and headed back to her desk.

I grinned to myself. On that note, I knew exactly what to do. I took a deep breath and let the emotions flow out of me.

There's a stain on the grass.

It's getting deeper.

It's coming closer.

Somebody stop this now.

There's a stain on the grass.

It's getting wider.

It's growing bolder.

I can hear it.

It's calling me out.

It wasn't a lot, I know, but it made me feel immediately better. I could have written more, but I thought that summed up by encounter quite nicely. I didn't want to write more, even though I had a whole class period. I glanced around at my classmates. They were bent over their journals, scribbling furiously. I chuckled to myself. What makes it so easy for me to express myself? Then I thought about it. I'm actually not that good at expressing myself. But somehow I felt like the culmination of everything I'd felt that morning could be summed up so simply in those few verses. Thinking about it more, I started humming to myself. I could make a song out of that. Probably not for Lemonade Mouth. I loved writing for my band, but I still had personal music. It was my goal to influence fans by being personal, but everyone needs something private for them to fall back on.

Mrs. Mearhood was walking around the classroom, seeing what they had written. When she passed Mo, I caught a nod of approval. I resisted the urge to lean forward and read over Mo's shoulder as Mrs. Mearhood stopped at my desk. I instantaneously felt self-conscious. I had maybe 13 words on my page and was as smug as could be in my seat whereas everyone else had pages filled out and where _still_ faithfully writing. That was one of my many downfalls: trusting myself too easily.

She picked up my notebook and read the few words written on the first page. She raised her eyebrows…and was that a hint of a smile? Then she handed the journal back to me and whispered, "Very nice, Stella, but could you write a little more? Maybe give me some insight into where that's coming from? You don't have to go out of your comfort zone, but I really like that. You are a very creative writer."

"Thanks," I whispered back. At first, I didn't want to write more; but then I realized that I needed to. It would make me feel even better…and would make me more prepared for Mo. Lunch was right after this class. I knew she and Olivia would relentlessly fire me with questions until I answered. I looked at the next sheet of paper, preparing to write. Everything he said came back to me.

"_If I could find a way to get rid of you—a way to make you disappear out of my life—do you know how much happier I would be right now?"_

"_Your life is a stain to my existence."_

"_Each of us have roles, Stella; except for you. You like to write, don't you? So get this in your head. You're like the lame meaningless characters authors put into their books to add word count. You have no meaning whatsoever. You're useless."_

"_Look, I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you thinking that you run this school. Normally, I would tell you that I'm the one who runs this school; but thanks to you, that's not the case anymore."_

"_But let me tell you this: If I can't have it, I swear you'll never get it. I can forget it; and if I can, you'd better."_

"_I'm sick of all of this, Stella. I don't even care anymore. You wanna be civil? Then start acting like it."_

"_It's ridiculous how I have to go through this. You don't know anything about me. And you certainly don't know anything about yourself."_

"_I see right through you. You act like this tougher-then-steel girl who can handle anything, but I can see that you're just like everyone else. You're scared, Stella. And the only way you can get over your fear is to make yourself invincible. But guess what? You're not."_

"_One day you're going to break. And when that happens, I hope I'm there to see it."_

"_Look, at this point, I don't even care what you have to say. So you can just march your little spitfire butt around here, screaming abuse at me. Get this. I…DON'T…CARE."_

"_You did all that crap last year. And for what? Fame? A little performance in New York? Well, welcome home, Dorothy. And the wizard's on vacation."_

"_I'm gonna turn around, and I'm gonna walk away. And I'm going to be calm. I'm not going to let this bother me anymore."_

All of the things he said to her rung through her head as she wrote the words that came to her mind in relation to them. Random snippets of their conversation, thoughts about what everything meant, possible song lyrics, and things she didn't even understand somehow found their way all over her journal pages…upside down, sideways, everywhere including the margins.

When Mrs. Mearhood made her second trip around the class, she nodded approvingly at my journal this time. I looked up after she passed and noticed that most everyone in the class, including Mo, was finished. I was running out of fuse, and after four pages, I'd released every emotion I would have thought possible.

I smiled, a real, relieved smile and closed my journal. Noting that we had about fifteen minutes left in class, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. I might as well get a few minutes of relaxation before the hustle and bustle of cafeteria life got to me. I noticed that Mo had been unusually quiet this whole class period. She was on the superintendent's list and had only one infraction—that day she snuck out with Scott—but she sure loved to talk. And since she was everyone's favorite and had the softest whisper in the world, she could get away with an occasional conversation. But today, she said nothing other than the "Hey, Stel" I got as I took my seat three seconds before the tardy bell. I wondered if she was angry with me, but I pushed that thought aside. I'd just gotten over one problem. It wouldn't help to bring another on board. So, I kept my eyes closed and dosed until Mrs. Mearhood announced that there were five minutes until the bell rang.

She walked to the front of the room. "I was very impressed with your writing, everyone. I think we have some serious potential in here. I know this is your first day, so I'm not going to pile you with homework like every other teacher. These first few days are going to go a little slower so you can get used to the class. But once next week rolls around, we are going to pick it up and buckle down."

I rolled my eyes by force of habit when she said that. It seemed like every teacher in the world was obligated to use the phrase "buckle down" in educational situations. Mrs. Mearhood seemed to agree. She laughed at herself when she said that.

"Yes, honors English is hard work," she continued. "But it is a privilege. I'm excited to have this year to work with you and help increase your knowledge and skills. Today was a great day. And it can only get better."

Her positive words seemed to reverberate around the room, foreshadowing good things to come. As if in agreement, the bell rang, sending us off to lunch and me into the lion's den with the rest of Lemonade Mouth.

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><p><strong>So, that's chapter two. And hopefully more will be coming soon.<strong>

**Shout out to DramaQueen 127 for being awesome and helping me out at 2 in the morning.**

**Please review and make me want to write more (even though I probably will if you don't review because I'm loving where this is going...but reviews make me feel better about myself)!**

**And if you have any questions/comments/concerns...I am always ready to hear them!**

**Kanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, readers. Well, here is Chapter 3. It is in third person omniscient. Let's just assume from now on that when someone's POV isn't named before the section, it is automatically in third person. **

**The disclaimer from the previous chapters still stands (I do not own anything).**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>Mo had rushed out of the classroom, which was quite out of character for her. She usually let the most eager students in the class have their way in leaving class so she wouldn't get trampled. This time, however, Mo was the first out of the class, leaving Stella looking after her in confusion. Stella shook her head. Mo was probably hurriedly briefing Olivia with the questions she wanted covered at lunch.<p>

The thought of that made her panic briefly. What was she supposed to say? She really didn't want to talk about what Ray had said to her. No one would understand why she felt so badly about it. She was Stella Yamada: fearless, restless, wicked, wild.

She sighed. There was no way out of it, though. Unless she avoided them. But that would only make it worse. They'd be even more adamant and persistent about finding out what was said. Plus, she was extremely hungry. Vegetarians had to eat, too.

She gathered her things together, stuffing them into her underused backpack crudely. Mrs. Mearhood walked up to her. "Having a rough day, Stella?" she asked.

Stella looked up, composing herself. "Oh, no. Everything's great. Just…uh…_eager_ to get to lunch."

Mrs. Mearhood raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. I can tell." Everyone had deserted the classroom at least three minutes ago.

Stella glanced up, slinging her book bag across her shoulder and pushing her honors English journal into the front pocket. She hadn't noticed that everyone was gone, but she definitely wasn't keen to follow them to the lunch room.

Mrs. Mearhood continued. "I wanted to talk to you about your writing."

"Oh," Stella said, concern flashing across her face, leaving almost as quickly as it had appeared.

"It's very good," the teacher continued.

"Oh." She hadn't been expecting _that_.

"In fact…I think you are one of the best writers in this class."

"Really?" Stella asked incredulously. Not many people…well…_no one_ commended Stella when it came to academics, even in classes she excelled at such as English. It seemed that all schoolwork was automatically degraded when a rebellious name was attached. And for Mrs. Mearhood to tell her that so early into the school year with only one class to justify her decision…it was amazing. Despite her years of experience, even Stella Yamada couldn't keep the small grin from forming on her radiant face.

"What you wrote today," she ventured. "Was it from personal experience?"

"Kind of…"she looked away, suddenly wanting to disappear—something Stella never wished for and always wished for at the same time.

Mrs. Mearhood could sense her embarrassment. "I don't mean to push you. I think what you wrote was very expressive and…amazing. Not a lot of people have the gift you have. That ability to write so passionately."

"Well, thanks, Mrs. Mearhood," Stella replied, glancing at the door, "But I think I need to get to lunch…before all the good seats are taken."

"Of course," her teacher said, smiling and turning to her desk.

Stella walked out of the classroom, Mrs. Mearhood looking after her with a thoughtful expression. _Her reputation definitely labels her as a much worse student than she really is_, the young teacher thought. Yes, every new teacher on staff had been warned of the more audacious of the student body. And Stella Yamada was on the top of the list. However, Mrs. Mearhood couldn't say she agreed with the veteran teachers after her first class with the legendary student. In truth, Mrs. Mearhood thought that the teachers were too concerned with the girl's exterior. Deep inside, Stella Yamada was just like any other student and had great talents. She was just more guarded and extreme—more willing to take chances and question what she thought was wrong. And for that, she needed to be commended, not repressed. Mrs. Mearhood shook her head. _I think it's about time to encourage that Yamada_, she thought. She smiled. Yes, encouragement was just what she needed.

Stella walked into the large Mesa High cafeteria, looking around for her friends. Sure enough, they were near. Olivia and Mo were deep in conversation, heads dipped close together. Wen and Charlie were joking around about something, laughing loudly. Scott was warily listening to Mo talking, shaking his head at her cunning and smiling. Wen looked up and, finding Stella, motioned towards the table. He said something to Charlie who smiled and waved.

Stella waved back, and motioned to the lunch line, letting them know that she knew where they were but was getting something to eat first. Turning her attention to the food display, she successfully got her mind off the other girls of Lemonade Mouth. As a vegetarian, the lunch line was a particular challenge. She could always go for the traditional salad, but…Stella Yamada could go through one of those in seconds, especially with the portions that seemed specifically tailored to those of anorexic cheerleaders. You'd think it would be easy to skip over the meat, but with lunch meat, there was never a guarantee that actual _meat_ was in it. She probably could eat every "meat" with no problem because it was most likely just filler with flavoring. Of course, there was a slight chance actual meat resided in the food, so Stella skipped over the entrees. She smirked. Actually, the food at Mesa High was pretty good and untraditional when it came to the age old rumors of bad school lunches, but…she liked her way of thinking better. Even with that out of the way, the cafeteria ladies didn't like children skipping around the lunch selections. For example, some kids would skip over the entrees and sides, just getting enough dessert to cover what they skipped. So they'd have twelve pudding cups and nothing else.

But, the lunch ladies would just have to put up with it for today. Stella went straight to the fruit bar and created an intricate fruit salad. Of course, being in Mesa High: Land of the Worthless I-Need-to-Feel-Like-I'm-Eating-a-Lot-Because-I'm-Not Cheerleaders, she had to use three of the bowls to make a perfectly portioned fruit salad.

_The lunch ladies are sure going all out first day of school_, she thought when she passed by the dessert station and saw a spectacular masterpiece of sweets. She grabbed a few pieces of chocolate cake and, thinking she'd die of too much sweet for lunch, headed over to pay.

The lunch lady didn't give her much thought probably due to the rush of a new school year, and soon Stella was sitting down beside Wen. "Hey, guys," she said, having forgotten what was to come. "How's first day been?"

The expectant look on Mo's face reminded her. "It's been long," Mo replied. "I've been waiting for answers _all_ day."

"Technically," Stella countered. "You haven't been waiting _all_ day because we've still got two classes left."

"And," Charlie added, "A school day isn't a whole day. We get out around three. That gives you about five hours to complete the day."

Mo gave him a silencing look. "Thank you, Charlie."

He shrunk back, "Sorry." Wen laughed then tried to cover it up with a cough when Mo's glare turned on him. That only caused Scott to laugh; but when Mo turned on him—in shock because he was supposed to back her up at all times—he wrapped his arm around her and smiled causing her to lighten up a bit and smile as well.

"Time for apologies?" he asked teasingly.

Mo looked at the boys sheepishly. "Sorry, guys. I don't mean to be so pushy. But…when I want to know something, I can be a bit crazy, huh?"

"I'm afraid to agree. Will I get one of those evil glares, too?" Stella asked.

Mo stuck her tongue out at Stella, chuckling. "No. I'll spare those."

"For?" Stella probed.

"A special occasion."

Stella good naturedly rolled her eyes, not knowing what Mo could mean by that. The rest of the table laughed as if they knew exactly what Mo was getting at and—even though she was out of the loop—Stella could only laugh with her band mates.

"But, Stella," Olivia said, finally speaking after laughing so hard with her friends. "You _are_ going to tell us, right? I mean, we're your best friends."

Stella stopped laughing. She looked around the table, meeting the eyes of everyone individually. Scott's arm was still around Mo as she leaned forward in her chair, clasping Stella's hand. He nodded slightly at Stella, willing her to tell them. Olivia looked at her with those sympathetic eyes that told Stella that she had been at Stella's end before and supported her fully. Charlie leaned forward as well, glad to know that he could help her in any way. Wen smiled supportingly at her, hugging her sideways. The confrontation had never been avoidable, not with those people as friends. She took a deep breath and told…even though it stung.

Throughout it all, she kept a straight face, almost void of all emotion. She pretty much knew the whole conversation word for word, but she just told them what he'd said to her because what she said didn't matter. She always trash talked him. If he wasn't used to it, it wasn't a problem of hers. When she was finally finished she looked up from her untouched dessert which she had stared at as she told her friends what had happened. Everyone just stared at her, not used to hearing Ray saying anything other than his usual ample, stupid quotes.

"Oh, Stel…" Olivia said when she finished. "I'm so sorry."

"I can't believe he said that," Wen said. His arm tightened around Stella's shoulders, the best he could do to support her since he didn't believe in actual fighting.

"Stella…" Charlie said, so shocked he couldn't think of anything else to add.

"He really said all of that?" Scott asked.

"No," Stella snapped bitterly. "I'm making it all up. We didn't speak to each other at all in the hall. It just looked like it."

Scott looked at her then glanced around the cafeteria. He had seen Ray in his fifth period class but didn't notice him at the lunch table where he and his posse would usually sit. He'd already noticed that Ray had been hit pretty hard with the morning incident and—judging by how Stella had been affected—figured he felt even worse after their little silent argument. She must have gotten a few choice words in herself, if he had all the time to say what he said to her.

Mo gripped Stella's hand tighter. "Well, just forget all of that stuff, Stella. I mean, he's Ray. Not a threat. And you're Stella. Our Stel."

"_Forget_ that stuff!" Stella asked, pulling herself out of Wen's arm and Mo's hand. "How am I supposed to forget all of that?"

Mo put her hand back on top of Stella's. "You're Stella Yamada. You don't let anything get to you. You're the driving force behind the energy that gives us strength to not be afraid, Stella."

"Not to mention, he didn't know what he was talking about. He lied. He may think you're going to crack…but that's just because he thinks everyone is just like him. You _do_ have a role. And you _are_ invincible," Olivia added.

"Olivia, you don't understand," Stella began.

"I know what he said about making you disappear and about you being a stain to his existence are hurtful. It hurts me so much, and he wasn't even talking about me. But…" Olivia looked to Mo.

"You're the queen of letting things like this roll off your shoulder. When someone makes us feel bad, who do we go to? When people—people we don't even know—are being bullied, whose name do they remember to help them forget all the hurtful words? Who is invincible?"

With every question, Stella felt worse. They just didn't understand.

When she didn't answer, Wen said, "You. You're name. _You're_ invincible."

"And Ray's a total idiot with nothing better to do besides try to make people feel bad. He probably didn't even understand half of the words he said back there," Charlie added.

Olivia laughed slightly. "Yeah, I bet that's true." There were chuckles made around the table by everyone except Scott.

When Stella didn't laugh either, everyone stopped. "The point is," Mo said, "Stella, there's no way you're going to let _that_ get to you. After a whole year of being the baddest, hardest to break girl in Mesa High—"

"Freshman year, we might add," Wen interrupted.

Mo continued. "Absolutely _nothing_ anyone says can touch you. You are invulnerable."

"We should turn you into a super hero. Superior Stella? Sustainable Stella? Sneaky Stella? Superb Stella!" Charlie seemed especially proud of coming up with the last one.

All of her emotions surged forward. She knew they meant well, but her friends just didn't know. They didn't know what she went through pretending to be some superwoman. She _wasn't_. She was nowhere near perfect. And what made it worse is that she had a reputation to fulfill. One slip up—one day where she loses that façade, even briefly—and she is exposed. And once she's exposed half of the kids in Mesa High would lose the hope that Lemonade Mouth brought. They would lose that imaginary protection that the infamous, invincible, unbeatable Stella Yamada provided for them. She was the heartless rebel. She was the girl that brought about change and could care less about the consequences.

No one could know about the secret girl that lived inside her. Her _real_ self, _not_ her evil soul sister, Sista Stella. The girl that was insecure about herself. The girl that secretly thought Lemonade Mouth was going to fail—that she would end up being another face in the hall that had tried and failed to make a difference. Not even her friends would be able to understand. The Stella they knew and loved was Sista Stella. If they found out that she had a softer side—a scared side—they wouldn't see with the same eyes ever again. She wouldn't be Stella Yamada, lead guitarist and revolutionary of Lemonade Mouth—the role she'd worked so hard to attain. She'd just be Stella Yamada. That regular girl who was in that band. With normal human emotions like insecurity came that status of "normal human". And Stella Yamada just couldn't be a normal human.

She knew they wouldn't understand, but she told them anyway. That was her first sign of weakness. She wished she could take it back, but they were all staring at her, watching her fists clench as she stood up abruptly. "You just don't get it!" she screamed in frustration. She was trying so hard to suppress the tears, lest they see a second sign of weakness. Thankfully, she managed to keep them in. She glared at her friends one by one. "None of you! None of you understand!"

"But, Stella—" Olivia began.

"And don't you _dare_," she said, her voice getting lower and more threatening, "act like you do. Because you don't!" she yelled. "And you never will!" She turned around, not even noticing the stares of everyone in the cafeteria, and marched away. She made sure to keep the tears out of her eyes and the anger less prominent on her face as she tried to find a secluded place as quickly as possible. She knew everyone in the cafeteria knew of her anger, so she didn't try to hide it until she stepped in the hallway. Then, she forced a bored expression on her face, not bothering to check her speed. When she reached a janitor's closet—one that seemed to have been unused for years—she looked around to make sure the hall was clear and slipped inside. Almost before she had the door fully shut, Stella collapsed on the floor, crying. She made sure to subdue the noises, but the tears flowed relentlessly.

**MEANWHILE...**

"What just happened?" Charlie asked.

"Stella just blew her top at Olivia," Wen replied in a monotone.

Olivia had tears in her eyes. Wen instantly felt terrible. "I'm so sorry, Liv," he told her. "I'm sure Stella didn't mean it."

"I'm not crying for myself, Wen," Olivia replied, wiping her eyes. "What about Stella? What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know," Mo said, stunned. "I thought we were telling all of the right things. It looks like Ray really hit a nerve this time..."

"Which _never_ happens," Olivia continued. "Where is the Stella that never lets words get to her?"

"Maybe, they always got to her," Scott put in. "But she always hid them."

"What?" Mo asked.

"What if Stella isn't as invincible as we all thought?"

"Impossible," Charlie said. "Invincible and Stella are a package deal."

"Maybe if I go find her," Mo said as she stood up.

Scott stopped her. "No. You'd only make it worse."

"What do you mean?" Mo asked indignantly.

"You said yourself that you thought you were telling her all the right things. Look where that went."

Mo sat back down forlornly.

"But I don't understand," Olivia said absentmindedly. Stella basically tells us the same things when we feel like that."

"But we're not Stella. And she's not us," Wen said. "She's been holding it in all this time…"

"Holding _what_ in?" Mo asked.

Wen and Scott exchanged glances. "Herself," Scott answered.

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><p><strong>Well, that was chapter 3 (I'm obviously running out of things to say in these author's notes)! Please review. I really appreciate them.<strong>

** If you liked it, tell me why and if you want more of something.**

**If you hated it, tell me why and if you have an suggestions for improvements.**

**Kanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone! How are you? It's 2 in the afternoon where I am and I just wanted to say that I stayed up til 3 in the morning writing this. I didn't even think I'd actually be able to upload anything since I'm visiting my grandparents...but guess what? They discovered the internet! I'm so proud...**

**Anyway, this is Chapter 4. I kind of rushed through it because so many thoughts ran through my head and somehow found themselves on my computer, but I'm very proud of it.**

***Kanks to the Angel of Randomsity for giving me such an amazing idea. It kept me up all night, for I refused to sleep until I wrote it in the chapter!***

**And Kanks for the amazing reviews. I appreciate them all so much.**

**As you all know, I do not own Lemonade Mouth, its characters, the setting, etc. But I do own this story's plot, the song lyrics (they are all original), my OCs, etc.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Even though it was the first day of school, the band had already gotten clearance to have after school band practice. There weren't any talent shows or competitions coming up; and they hadn't booked any shows so they could get used to school, but they wanted to keep up the tradition even if it wasn't necessary.<p>

By that time, Stella had put herself together, thankfully not having any more classes with her band mates, plastering her usual bored expression on her face, and ignoring the confused looks given to her by people around the school. Of course, by seventh period, the entire school had heard of her breakdown; but Stella wasn't all that concerned about it. Strangers could think what they wanted. Besides, they'd all forget in a matter of weeks.

But Lemonade Mouth was another story. They had supported each other since the beginning and were always there for each other. Now that their dear leader Stella was in a tough spot, they would stop at absolutely nothing to make her feel better…whether she wanted it or not. Stella really couldn't blame them. How many times had she badgered her band mates to the point of happiness and cheered them up relentlessly when they were having trials? On the other hand, demanding her friends to be happy was HER job. No one else could do so…effectively at least. Stella sighed. Some people just weren't meant to have friends. Friends who understood. Maybe she was one of them.

When the bell rang, Stella begrudgingly made her way to her newly assigned locker, the ultimate question raging through her head: To go or not to go? She never missed a practice and severely interrogated then punished all band mates who dared even think of skipping a practice, so bailing out of their first practice of the school year would only make the situation impossibly worse. Still, what good would showing up for practice do if she ended up blowing up at her friends again and storming off? Even though she had cooled considerably since lunch, Stella could feel the barely suppressed anger desperately trying to find a way to the surface yet again. She didn't know what was happening to her. She'd gone a whole year without once slipping up or even giving her friends a slight reason to think anything was wrong. How could one day completely unravel what she'd worked so hard to conceal? She stuck her head in her locker, willing herself to stop thinking, lest she have another breakdown.

"Do you really think she's going to show?" Charlie asked as the band made their way to the elevator. They had all met in front of the trophy case nearest Principal Brenigan's office as they had done last year. After waiting fifteen minutes for Stella to arrive, they all decided to continue to the Underground without her.

"Of course," Scott said, although he was feeling pretty doubtful himself.

"What makes _you_ so sure?" Mo asked, raising her eyebrow at her boyfriend.

"Stella has never missed a band practice," Wen said, "even when she was crazy sick. I don't think there's anything in the universe that can keep Stella away from her music."

"You're right," Olivia replied, "but she can play music at home. Who says she has to come to band practice?"

Charlie nodded in agreement. "I honestly think she'd risk her perfect practice attendance record to get a break from us for a while. It seemed like we really struck a nerve back there." He looked thoughtfully. "What were we even doing when she blew up?"

Olivia burrowed her eyebrows. "We were just trying to cheer her up."

Mo's eyes widened. "Yeah, and what were we cheering her up _for_?" She asked Olivia.

"Because of what Ray had told her," Olivia replied, not understanding what Mo was getting at.

Scott seemed to. He put his arm around Mo's shoulders. "Whoa, Mo. Let's not jump to conclusions."

Mo scoffed. "What do you mean, Scott?" She turned back to Olivia. "Don't you get it? This is all Ray's fault!"

Scott quickly came to ray's defense. They may not have been friends for a while, but Scott was still there for his former best friend. He knew what Ray had to go through. He knew the truth behind Ray Beech. "Slow down," he said. "Ray didn't know what he was doing."

"_Didn't know what he was doing_!" Mo exclaimed, stopping and pulling herself out of Scott's arms. Everyone else stopped as well. "He's been trying to slip Stella up since the first day of school. His goal in life is to make her snap. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing."

"No, he didn't!" Scott replied, glancing at Wen and Charlie for support. Unfortunately, they were frowning at him, puzzled that he would defend their worst adversary.

Mo gave him a hard look that said he'd pay for contradicting her.

Olivia stepped in between them. "Scott," she said softly, "I know you used to be Ray's friend and you try to see the good in people—"

"Even people that have no good in them," Charlie interrupted.

Olivia smiled a bit, agreeing with him, then wiped it away and continued, "But Ray really did hurt Stella. He has done something serious to her—he's made her crack. And he needs to know this. Something needs to be done about this."

"And we are going to do something about this," Mo said, holding up her hand when Scott tried to say something else. "Ray Beech has wronged his last Mesa High student. I may not be Stella, but I am going to hurt him in ways Stella has never even imagined."

"I wouldn't go that far," Olivia said, "but I am with you on revenge, Mo."

"Whoa, Olivia White wants revenge?" Wen asked. "It's a miracle!"

"Right after band practice," Olivia replied.

"Yeah," Charlie put in, "Hit him where it hurts the most, when he's weak and sweaty from soccer practice in front of all his brainless jock friends."

"Whether or not Stella shows up, she'll be with us. We have all turned into little Stella demons!" Mo laughed.

Charlie grinned. "She'd be so proud!"

"Especially of Olivia."

"C'mon," Olivia said, smiling. "We still have to practice."

The band began walking, heading for the elevator again, but Scott called them back. As they reached him, he asked, "Don't you think you guys are going a bit too far on this one?"

"Nope," Charlie replied matter-of-factly.

"Wen?" Scott asked, knowing asking the girls was futile. They were already set on their target.

"Sorry, man, but I gotta agree with them. Come on, you don't think—not even a tiny bit—that Ray went too far?"

"Ray always goes too far," Scott said, smiling to himself a little. "But that's not the point. What about Stella?"

"What about her?" Mo asked. "We're doing all of this _for_ her."

"No," Scott replied. "You're doing all of this for yourselves. You tell yourselves you're doing it for Stella, but think about it. You're just doing something Stella would do in retaliation."

"Exactly," Charlie said.

"Yeah, exactly what Stella has been doing…and look where it's gotten her. Showing up Ray in front of his whole soccer team—or anywhere—isn't going to help Stella. What we need to do is talk to Stella."

"We already tried talking to her," Mo said. "That didn't work. Now we need to _show_ her that we care."

Olivia nodded. "What else can we do?" she asked.

"We tell ourselves that we know Stella, but do we really?"

"Yes," Mo said. "Scott, I know you're trying to help, but you don't know Stella as well as the rest of us do. You're 'outsider philosophy' approach to this is just annoying."

Olivia put her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Just hear him out," she said gently. "Maybe it will all make sense."

"Thanks, Olivia," Scott said.

Olivia nodded in response.

"Anyway," Scott continued. "The Warrior Stella that we thought we knew may not be as much of a warrior as she wanted us to think. Warrior Stella wouldn't have been very concerned about anything Ray had to say to her, but _our_ Stella obviously was. We need to talk to her."

"Right after band practice then," Mo said. "If you're really sure about this and you think Stella's been lying about who she is this whole time, maybe we can figure all this out."

Wen closed his eyes and sighed. He could just see Mo and Stella getting into an argument. Stella was definitely the defiant, rebellious one; but Mo could be pretty headstrong when she wanted to. They'd be back to square one if that happened. He thought about Olivia. She was quiet, but it seemed like she frustrated Stella sometimes. He didn't know why, though. He really thought those two should stay out of any confrontations any time soon. "Okay," he said. "Here's what I think. I think you, Olivia, and you, Mo should talk to Stella later. Let me talk to her after band practice."

"What!" Mo asked.

"Mo," Scott said, knowing exactly what Wen was thinking. "You'll have plenty of time to talk to Stella later."

Mo looked at Olivia, who didn't quite understand why Wen didn't want _her_ to talk to Stella but nodded in after locking eyes with Wen. "Olivia?" Mo said. "Are you okay with this?"

Olivia hugged her friend. "It's okay, Mo. It's just like Scott said, maybe we don't know Stella as well as we think we do. So maybe we aren't the ones best fit to figure all this out."

Mo stared at Olivia. She then looked at Scott and Wen. Finally, she looked at Charlie, who raised his hands up in surrender. "If it helps," he said, "I'm just as confused."

"Don't worry," Scott said. "We'll work this out. And when we do, Stella will be better than ever."

Mo frowned, but with her friends surrounding her, she couldn't stay unhappy for long. She gathered them up in a hug then walked with them to the elevator. She thought about Stella and hoped she was okay. She wanted her friend to be just as content as she was with Lemonade Mouth's friendship.

Stella had finished setting up the instruments for band practice, and was sitting on her amp, wondering if her friends were even going to come to band practice. She had had a time deciding whether or not she would come, but in the end, there was ultimately only one possible answer. Of course she would come. Nothing in the world would keep her from maintaining her perfect band practice attendance—which would be the only place she'd even receive that award. Regardless of how her relationship with her friends changed, as long as there was Lemonade Mouth, there would be a Stella Yamada showing up for band practice.

It was twenty minutes later when her friends finally showed up, all of them stopping in shock when they saw Stella. Wen was the first to recover.

"Hey, Stel," he said, lightly punching her shoulder as he made his way to his piano. "Whoa, thanks for setting everything up."

Stella smiled, glad that he wasn't acting weird around her or mentioning the lunch incident. "No problem. I mean, I did have twenty extra minutes to wonder if anyone was going to show up."

"So how's everything going?" Scott asked as he put on his guitar which was already plugged into his amp.

"Great," Stella said, standing up. Her guitar was already strapped. She was ready to go. "How are you guys?"

"Fine," Olivia said, giving Stella a hug as she stood in front of the mike.

"Same old same old," Charlie said at the same time as Olivia as he fingered his drumsticks.

"Oh," Mo said, pretending to tune her bass. "My stomach might be a little queasy from lunch."

"Mo!" hissed Scott as Olivia gave her a hard look and Wen gave Charlie, who has stifling a laugh, a hard look as well.

"What?" Mo replied innocently, glancing at Stella. "It is."

"That was mean, Mo," Olivia said.

Mo sighed. "I know. Gosh, Stella, I'm so sorry."

Stella laughed. "It's okay. My stomach's a little queasy. I didn't get to eat all that much."

Olivia smiled. Maybe Stella wasn't so bad off after all. "Okay, guys. So remember that song we were working on a few weeks ago."

"The one with the killer guitar solo?" Stella asked.

"Yeah. Well, I worked on some lyrics to go with the music."

"Really?" Wen asked. "That's great."

"I'm not finished. I just wanted you guys to hear them. It's not good, but…Well, it's pretty bad since I did it myself and I didn't get any help and I could use some help that's why the song isn't finished but—"

"Stella!" Mo interrupted, laughing. "Let's play the song!"

"Oh, okay," Olivia said sheepishly. She nodded at Stella, who began the opening chords.

The song started off with Stella then Mo joining in with a simple bass accompaniment. Charlie then adds the drums which are soon followed by Scott's guitar. Olivia then started to sing.

_Is it rage?_

Is it sorrow?

Is it yearn for tomorrow?

_Is it hope?_

_Is it pain?_

_Is it thirst for the rain?_

_Is it ire?_

_Pure desire?_

_Am I stuck in this choir?_

_What if I want a solo?_

Wen joined in with the piano and Mo's bass became more complicated. Scott slowed down with his plucking while Stella's guitar slowed to a bass-like steady beat.

_Will I ever see_

_Let alone believe_

What this world has done to me?

_Will I ever know_

_Where I can go_

_To fight this flow?_

_Will I ever have_

_Another chance_

_When I ruin everything?_

_Can I find_

_A new place_

_To make a new scene?_

Olivia turned to her band mates, signaling that she had no more lyrics.

"Olivia," Charlie said. "That was great!"

"Seriously," Mo said, hugging her. "You've outdone yourself!"

"Thanks," Olivia said, blushing.

"And don't get all shy on us now, Olivia," Stella continued. "You are the best songwriter in the world. Truly."

"Thanks," Olivia said. "But honestly, I do need help with it."

"Then I degree you get to Wen's house immediately to finish that song."

"Uh," Scott said. "Practice isn't over."

"And anyway, I was hoping _you_ would help me with the song this time," Olivia said.

Stella stared at her. This wasn't the first time Stella had helped writing the songs. In fact, she wrote almost all of the music in the songs except for the piano chords. She wasn't good with the piano. But Stella didn't really have a knack for writing lyrics. She just never felt she could get the true Lemonade Mouth vibe in words the way Olivia did so naturally. But she couldn't deny the lead singer. "Well, if you really want me to…that's fine. But later, okay?"

"Sure," Olivia replied. "Any time."

"In the meantime," Scott said. "We still have practice." He had skipped soccer practice without permission just to be with the band, so he wanted to at least say something productive happened in his defense when coach chewed him out the next day.

"Right," Olivia said. "Umm…"

"Why don't we just go through some old favorites?" Wen suggested. "It's okay to have a slow day."

Scott groaned. Everyone looked at him. "Sorry. It's…nothing," he said defeatedly.

"Oh," Mo said, realizing what was wrong. "You have soccer practice."

"Scott," Olivia said, "you didn't have to skip for us. This is the first day and we have nothing to rehearse for."

"Yeah, well…" Scott said. He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Soccer practice sucks anyway. I'd rather be here with you guys any day."

"I hope your coach agrees," Mo said. "He's going to kill you!"

Scott shrugged again. "Who cares?"

Charlie snorted. "I bet you will when coach makes you run a thousand laps around campus for missing."

"Ugg," Scott replied. "Don't remind me. That's exactly what I was trying to forget."

Everyone laughed. "I know what'll make you feel better," Wen said. He began playing the opening chords of "Determinate", Scott's favorite Lemonade Mouth song and the song that officially branded him as part of the band. Everyone grinned as they got back in place. Soon, Olivia had everyone jamming out as their turned Ms. Reznick's music room into a dance floor.

It was a moment of true unity. A moment where not one member thought about themselves or their own problems…or problems at all. Everyone was together. They were a band, a whole body of one thing. They were themselves and no one simultaneously. And it was moments like these that made them realize why they were so close. Why they cared so much about each other. Why that faithful day in detention meant so much to them. Why that day at WRIZing Star was so worth everything. It was why Stella felt so bad about hiding her true self. It was why Olivia wanted her friend to feel better so badly. It was why Mo was so determined to uncover the truth about Stella. It was why Scott was so happy to be a part of Lemonade Mouth. It was why Wen wanted everyone in the band to feel as content and as if they belonged as he did. It was why Charlie could finally say he had a family that understood him and cared for him…and that he cared for.

After band practice, everyone began to put away their instruments. Stella was completely oblivious to the looks everyone was giving each other, looks that told each person where to go, when to leave, and how to leave—all in preparation for Wen and his talk with Stella.

"Well," Mo said. "I have to go. My dad is really keen to see my books for this year's AP classes."

"I'll walk you home," Charlie offered.

"Sure," Mo replied. "Bye guys," She said.

"See you, Mo," Scott said, giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Bye," she smiled at him, then walked out with Charlie.

Wen walked Olivia to the door. "See you later, Liv," he said.

"Bye," she blushed. "Oh, I hope things go well with Stella," she said.

"Yeah," he glanced at where Stella was putting her guitar in its case. "Me too."

"Don't worry too much about it. I can tell you're getting all worked up about this. It's just another conversation. Just like the usual ones you have with her."

"Yeah…Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Bye." She blushed again before leaving.

Wen turned to Scott, who was staring at the floor. Stella had finished putting her guitar in its case, had strapped it on, and was looking at the two with her eyes narrowed. Wen put his hand on Scott's back and turned him so they were both facing away from Stella. "I take it you were planning on staying."

"Yeah. I thought it was the plan all along."

"I figured you wanted to. Got something to say about Ray, right?"

"Yeah."

"I hope you know what you're doing, because if I were Stella, I sure wouldn't want to hear his name any time soon."

"Relax, Wen."

Wen rolled his eyes and was about to say something when Stella interrupted.

"Are you guys just going to stand there all day? I have places to be you know."

They whirled around. "Sorry," Wen replied.

Stella walked out of the room and started heading towards the elevator.

"Stella, wait!" Scott called.

She turned around. "What?"

"We wanted to talk to you."

"I know," she replied. "You made that obvious when you had that secretive huddle right in front of me. I mean, really guys. Would it kill you to be more subtle?" She started walking again.

"Are you going to let us talk to you?" Wen asked. "Where are you going?"

She turned around again. "Sure. But it's nice outside. I just wanted to sit on a bench."

"Oh," Wen said. "Okay." He and Scott followed her to the elevator, no one talking as they made their way to the designated spot.

Under the air of confidence Stella was spewing out, she felt terrible. After that unifying band practice, she felt terrible. They were her band mates, but could she truly say that? Band mates know everything about each other. They play off each other's strengths and weaknesses. But Stella had denied her friends that. So what did that make her? Certainly not a part of the band. She didn't feel like talking, but what else could she do? They were concerned about her, and they deserved _something_.

She reached a bench and sat down, Wen and Scott sitting on opposite sides of her. "So…?" she asked, not ready to drop the act just yet.

"Stella," Wen said. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, still not ready.

"You know exactly what I mean. Why…what happened with Ray?"

Stella was about to respond that she had already told him that, but he held up his hand.

"Not what he said," Wen continued. "But how it affected you. What nerve did Ray strike?"

Stella scoffed. "Ray strikes every nerve in my body. It's how it goes."

"That's not how it went today," Wen said. "Stella. We know. Don't try to hide it. That's what got us into this mess in the first place."

Stella stared at him, silently berating herself. She couldn't believe she was finally giving up. "I…I don't know," she finally said. "He just…what he said made sense…and some of it was true…I am insecure…and I'm not invincible."

"Stella," Wen said honestly, "this is the part where I would tell you that you _are_ invincible. That Ray is a jerk. That even if you're insecure, you're unbreakable to me. To us. To every Lemonade Mouth fan out there. That we will always support you no matter what and that you don't need to be perfect to be our favorite girl in the world. The one was always go to for everything we need. The one we can count on to sacrifice everything in the world for us." He wrapped his arm around her. "And all that stuff is true. But I know that you've heard enough of that. I know that isn't going to help you. The only problem is…I don't know what it is that _will_ help you. And I'd appreciate it if you would help me out. We're all crazy concerned about you, Stel. We're scared for you. We want to help, but we don't know how. Can you help us help you?"

Stella shook her head at the ground. "I wish I could, Wen. I really do." She looked up at him. "But I can't. I don't know why what you guys say doesn't make me feel better. I know you guys are trying, but it just isn't clicking. Don't be offended."

"We're not," Wen replied. He squeezed her shoulder. Then sighed. "I don't know what else to say, dude," he told Stella.

She smiled and hugged him. "There's not anything else _to _say, man. But thanks for trying anyway. You're the best."

He got up. "I guess I should be going, though. I'll see you tomorrow, Stel. Bye, Scott."

"Yeah, see ya," Scott replied.

"Bye," said Stella.

Wen left, leaving Stella and Scott alone to talk about the infamous Ray Beech.

They sat in silence for a while before Scott finally said. "You know he didn't mean to hurt you that much."

"Yeah," Stella replied. "I know."

"Really?" Scott asked, surprised. "How?"

"I saw him when I left lunch…"

"What happened?"

"I didn't kill him, if that's what you think."

Scott chuckled. "Nope. I know you hate him, but I don't think even Stella Yamada would be that extreme."

"You're right," Stella replied, laughing a little as well. "I wouldn't kill a man. I haven't been trained as an assassin yet."

"That must be on your bucket list," Scott said jokingly.

"You know it," she replied matter-of-factly.

"The sad thing is…I can't tell whether you're serious or joking."

"You don't joke about killing people," Stella said. "That's the easiest way to get the government to knock down your front door and trash the place while your mother's home."

"Oookay," Scott said. "I'm going to change the subject."

"Fine by me."

"Ray isn't all that bad a guy."

Stella rolled her eyes. "Typical thing a former best friend would say."

"I'm serious. He just has a lot of family problems. He's misunderstood."

"Yeah, and so are a lot of people. But they don't become Kings and Queens of the jerkfaces," Stella snapped. "He's just spoiled. That's what he is."

"I thought you said you knew he didn't mean to hurt you."

"I do. But just because you accidentally said too much doesn't mean that you still aren't the jerk that started the argument in the first place."

"Stella…" Scott began.

"Don't try to talk me out of hating Ray, Scott," Stella interrupted, "because it's not going to work. He might have tried to apologize, but he still came off as the jerk he is and always will be. And I might have forgiven him, but that's one thing crossed off the never-ending list of wrongs Ray Beech has done to Lemonade Mouth."

"Stella…" Scott said.

"Really. After all he's done…and you just expect me to forgive him just like that? Olivia, maybe. Maybe even Charlie or Wen. You, definitely. But not me. Never me. It doesn't matter what happens to him or where he goes or if he changes…I'll never forgive him."

"Stella…Let me just talk."

"Whatever." She crossed her arms.

"I know you're mad. And I know that when you're made there's no way of convincing you of anything. But just take what I'm about to tell you and ignore it until you've calmed down. Will you do that?"

"No promises," Stella responded through pursed lips, even though his approach had already calmed her enough. She was very curious as to what he thought was that important.

He sighed. "I'll take that as a yes." He paused before continuing. "Ray has gone through a lot. I don't really want to tell you his whole life story because that's his and not mine to tell; but just believe me when I say that he's been through a lot. What you did outside before school hurt him badly. I saw him. He kept on a good angry front, but you just about ruined everything he worked so hard to accomplish since going to Mesa High. You completely threw him off of the throne. And you have no idea how hard he has been working on getting and staying there."

"Maybe," Stella said, "but if he's had such a hard time, why work so hard to be a bully? Why won't he work hard to do something productive, something worth something?"

"That _is_ worth something to him."

Stella scoffed. "Figures. Being 'King of Mesa High' is all that matters to him. Yep, that' the Ray Beech everybody hates."

Scott sighed. He had no idea how to get to Stella. "You don't get it, Stella. You just don't—" He remembered something. "Remember how you felt at lunch, when you told us that we didn't get it? That we just didn't understand how you felt?"

"Yeah," Stella said, trying to avoid reminiscing that moment.

"That's it. That's how Ray is. He has a reason for everything Stella, but it's deep…It's very deep, and you just don't get it."

Stella stared at the ground, understanding but willing herself not to. This was Ray Beech…

Scott smiled. He could tell by the confused look Stella was giving her shoes that he had finally gotten to her. "I've got to go," he said. "See you tomorrow?" He started walking away then stopped and turned. "You want a ride home?" He was a year ahead of her and had a fully functioning car and license.

She looked up briefly. "Oh, no. I'm fine."

"You sure?" he persisted. "It's a long walk home."

"I need it," Stella replied.

"Okay," Scott said. "Bye."

"Later."

As Scott left the school grounds, Stella thought to herself about what he had said. Now she identified Ray with herself. She thought back to what had happened when she had left the cafeteria and found that "unused" janitor's closet.

Her body heaved as she cried. Her tears stained her face. Her nose sang a horrible sounding symphony. The cold floor seemed to agree with her agony. Eventually, she got tired of trying to hide her noise. She didn't care if anyone heard her. She just sobbed. As the tears lessened, she heard sniffles in the darkness. They didn't belong to her. She immediately quieted herself. The mystery person seemed to realize she was there as well, for the sniffles stopped at the same time.

The sudden silence reverberated around the room, until a familiar voice broke the stillness. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Yamada," Ray Beech said.

"Ray?" Stella replied, silently cursing the quivers in her voice until she realized that Ray sounded just as bad. As if he had been… "Were you _crying_?"

"Weren't you?" he shot back.

"Yeah," she replied. She didn't know why she was being so honest; but there was no use trying to deny it. She had been crying, and since it'd probably be around the whole school in an hour—she was, after all, with _Ray_—she figured she'd better go ahead and get over it.

"Yeah?" Ray asked, shocked that she'd admitted it. "Well…" he hesitated, then made a decision. "I was, too." What use would denying it do? Stella was bound to tell the world the minute she left.

"Wow," she said.

"What?"

"I can't believe you just actually admitted to doing something…especially something that would make you vulnerable."

"Yeah, well go ahead and tell the world, Yamada. What does it even matter? I'm done with you getting to me. So who cares?"

"You do," Stella said confidently. "You know you do. All you ever do is try to come out on top and ruin my life."

"Well looks like the tables have turned because today you ruined _mine_."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Don't act like you're the victim, here, Stella. Not everything is always about you. You're not the queen of this school."

"I never wanted to be the queen of this school. And I know not everything is about me. Do you know that not everything's about you?"

"Whatever, Yamada. Why are you even talking to me? Just go away. You can have your fake temper tantrum somewhere else."

"Fake?" Stella replied. "You think this is fake? I can't believe you, Beech. You're so fake you think everyone else has to be fake."

"Shut up, Stella."

"No, _you_ shut up. This isn't _fake_. What you said back there, Beech, when you called me all those things and just hissed cruel in my face, actually stung."

Ray scoffed.

"Yeah, I know. Why would something you say actually mean anything this time? I don't know…but it did. It really hurt, Ray." Try as she might to stop them, tears slowly poured down her face.

Ray looked at her. He couldn't believe it. He hadn't meant to make her cry. He wondered why she cried now, instead of when he'd first said that to her. "Look, Stella," he said, reaching out to her and touching her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just always took it you could handle anything I threw at you, since you're so quick to totally trash me."

She dried her eyes quickly, not even believing that she had actually cried—shown weakness—in front of her worst enemy. "I _can_ handle it," she said. "It just stung a little."

Ray laughed. "Typical Stella Yamada thing to say."

Stella smiled a bit. Was she actually getting along with Ray Beech? She guessed similar circumstances broke down barriers. That reminded her. "Well, what are _you_ doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Ray's smile faltered.

"Why are you crying in a closet? And don't try to deny it. You've already admitted to it."

He sighed. "It doesn't matter," he replied. Even though she'd admitted something to him, and he felt obligated to tell her how deeply her words had affected him, he just didn't want to. He was Ray Beech. Even if Stella had finally given up her plan of being invincible, it didn't mean he had to give up his. He _couldn't_ give up his. It was just impossible.

"Come on, Ray," Stella said.

Ray glared at her. "I told you. It doesn't matter!"

"Are you serious?" Stella replied. "I just told you everything and you think you're going to get away with NOT telling me?"

"I don't think, Yamada. I know."

Stella scoffed. "Yeah, right. Come on, Ray. It'll make you feel better."

Ray knew she was right. He needed to tell someone and get it off his chest, and he had no one else to talk to. But he couldn't give up. He could still redeem himself and come back on top as the Ray Beech everyone knew and feared. "Shut up, Yamada," he hissed. "You don't know anything. You're just a stupid loser wannabe rocker with a group of misfits backing you up. You're worth absolutely nothing. What makes you think I'd talk to _you_ of all people? I have actually friends, unlike you."

"Yeah, Beech," Stella replied coldly. "_You_ have friends." She got up and stomped out of the closet, leaving Ray feeling even more empty and dejected as he had when he first walked in. A single tear ran down his face. He angrily clawed it away.

Of course, Stella didn't know of that part as she sat on the bench outside and finished thinking back. She sighed as she wondered about Ray, tying in what she remembered with what Scott had said. Maybe she could identify with Ray. He had been vulnerable in the closet, but she could tell that he had told her more than he'd expected to. He denied having any weakness aside from admitting that he was crying. And he got angry at her for trying to help him. Yes, Ray Beech had some problems to work out. But, Stella was sure, he had no one to work out those problems with. She gathered her book bag and guitar and headed for home, all the while thinking about Ray Beech.

* * *

><p><strong>And that concludes chapter 4. Hopefully, I brought out a little of the Ray we are so desperately trying to get more of.<strong>

**Spoiler Alert: Next chapter = Ray's POV**

**I'm sorry if you think the song is kind of out of character for Lemonade Mouth. It's the closest to LM that I had in my song book. But as I write more of it (or, as Olivia and Stella write more of it), I think it will kind of mold itself into the LM lyrics we know and sing everyday.**

**Please review! I love gettting everyone's feedback. You guys are seriously awesome.**

**Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Want to see more of something? Less of something?**

**Right now, this story is just going where it wants to, and I'm happy to take the ride. It's fun!**

**Kanks, you guys so much for everything! I love hearing from you and hopefully the Chapter 5 will be here soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi, guys. **

**H****ow are you? *ducks to avoid the tomatoes everyone is throwing at her* I know, I know! **

**I'm sorry I've taken so long to upload. *a tomato hits her square in the face* I guess I deserved that. **

**But I am truly sorry. **

**I****t's just that writing in Ray's POV is harder than I thought it would be. It took me a long time to figure out what I wanted him to go through and have to deal with to give you insight into his life.**

**I've been a very bad writer...and I don't have an excuse for that. I'm sorry.**

**But anyway, without further ado *somone in the crowd yells, "Hey, my name is Ado!"* **

**I present to you...**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

><p><strong>RAY'S POV<strong>

"Alright, boys. Great practice!" the coach yelled. "Hit the showers!"

The tired, sweaty, over-worked high-schoolers followed Coach Lee's orders.

I walked toward the locker room, chuckling to myself as new comers—ones who'd just gotten on the team—ran to the rooms. It was pointless to run. They needed to save their energy or else by the time they reached the showers, they'd be too tired to wash.

"Beech!"

I turned around. "Coach?" Coach Lee motioned for me to come to him.

I did so. "Anything wrong?" I asked.

"Where's Pickett?"

I looked around, shrugging. "I wouldn't know, sir."

Coach Lee nodded. "Next time you see him, tell him to show up or be kicked off."

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"And what happened out there today, Beech?" Coach Lee asked, motioning towards the soccer field.

I sighed. "I…I don't know."

"You're the captain, Beech. You gotta set an example for the team."

"I know."

"You're not yourself today. Something wrong?"

"No. Nothing," I replied. I looked away, pretending to be intensely interested in the boys who were slowing down in their run to the locker rooms. "We really need to get closer showers," I commented, wanting to change the subject.

Coach Lee laughed. "That is true. But we don't have a direct tie to Brenigan's bank anymore."

"What?" I asked, laughing a bit as well. "What happened? We're his favorite."

"Yeah, we're his favorite," Coach said, "but thanks to Stella Yamada and all the reject kids, he technically can't have favorites anymore."

I stiffened instinctively at the mention of Stella. "Yeah. Thanks to her."

"But," the coach said, stretching. "It doesn't matter. We'll always have a little extra, right, Beech?"

I forced a grin on my face as Coach Lee patted me on the back in mirth. "Yeah, Coach," I replied. "I have to go. I promised my dad I'd be home as soon as practice was over."

"Alright. Practice tomorrow, Beech," Coach called after me. "Don't forget to tell Pickett."

"No problem, Coach," I replied over my shoulder. I decided to bypass going to the showers. Usually after practice I was in a good mood. I'd forget about all the troubles during the day and have hearty conversations with my teammates. I guess that's one of the reasons why no one had tried to overthrow my "reign" before Stella came along. I can be very agreeable when you catch me at the right time.

And that brought me to the root of the problem: Stella. I didn't really feel like thinking about her, so I distracted myself. Getting into my car, soccer uniform sticking to my body from practice, I thought about where Scott had gone. I'd started the engine when it came to me. Lemonade Mouth. They probably had band practice. That caused an inadvertent growl to come as I pulled out onto the street.

"Of course," I murmured. "Band practice is more important than soccer. Everything is more important than soccer."

Wanting desperately to keep my mind off of Lemonade Mouth and Stella, I thought about something else, my nine-year-old sister, Breanne. Grinning, I remembered what she had done that morning.

"Ray?" she had asked as I was heading out of the door.

"Yeah?" I'd replied.

"I wanted to show you what I can do on my iPad."

"Oh?" I'd asked as Breanne pulled me into the house and to the kitchen table. "And what is that?"

"You know that Rock Band app I just got?" she asked.

"Uh…" I thought about it. "Oh, yeah. What about it?"

"Well, I made a song!" she squealed.

"That's great, Breanne," I replied, laughing as she danced around the room.

"Do you want to hear it?" she asked eagerly.

"Of course."

She grinned, wider than I'd seen her do in weeks. "I wrote it just for you, you know," she said, starting the song.

I sat down, listening to the kiddy, predictable guitar and piano chords streaming from the device along with the metronome's fast beat. Breanne had jumped into my lap, kicking her legs along with the tune. Soon, Breanne's voice had started belting from the iPad.

_Ray Ray Ray_

_He's my bay bay bay_

_I love him_

_He's the best brother in the world_

_Ray Ray Ray_

_He's the only way way way_

_I love my Ray Ray Ray_

_Hey hey hey_

_Ray_

When the song ended, Breanne turned around expectantly in my lap. "What do you think?"

I'd looked at her, blinking a few times before I could gather my thoughts together. If she weren't my little sister, I would have laughed. But I loved her dearly and couldn't hurt those beautiful blue eyes.

"I know it's kind of short and it's not as good as the songs that you write, but—" she continued.

"Breanne," I'd interrupted. "I love it. It's the best song I've ever heard."

"Really?" her eyes lit up. "Ray, really?"

That made me laugh. "Why would I lie to you, Bree?"

"You never do," she replied, hugging me around the neck.

"That's right," I said. "And don't you forget it."

"I won't," she whispered.

After a few minutes, I'd stood up, still cradling Breanne in my arms. "I gotta get to school, Bree."

"Okay." She'd said, jumping out of my arms and walking me to the door. "See you at home, Ray!" she called after me as I got in my car.

I'd rolled down the window. "Bye, Bree."

As I drove home I thought about this adorable little sister, one of the best things about my life—maybe the only positive thing about my life. She is naïve and a complete princess, but she's still my sister. I love her to pieces and am proud of everything she's ever done…no matter how stupid.

I pulled into the driveway, parking to the side to leave enough space for my dad when he got home.

"Bree?" I called when I walked inside the house. "You home?"

No one answered.

I started to panic. Breanne was always waiting at the kitchen table when I got home. "Bree! Bree, are you home?" I'd always thought her being at home alone was a bad idea. She was responsible, but immensely curious. Anything—or anyone—could have lured her out of the house. By now, she was probably long gone…how was I supposed to find her?

I ran up the stairs, dropping my back pack and gym bag on the floor. The door to her room was closed. I didn't know why, but the closed door seemed ominous. It frightened me even more. "Bree!" I yelled, banging on the door.

"Ray?" Bree asked coming to the door, and staring up at me in confusion. "What's wrong? Why are you screaming?"

"Bree!" I exclaimed again—this time out of relief and joy—grabbing her into a hug and lifting her into the air.

Breanne giggled. "Ray, what are you doing?"

"Bree, I thought you always waited for me to get home at the table?"

"Well, yeah," Bree said matter-of-factly. "Duh, I always do that. But I came up to my room to get a coloring book."

I laughed and hugged Bree again. It was ridiculous how worked up I'd gotten over the situation. Bree's explanation was perfectly logical. The overwhelming relief I felt at that moment wasn't logical. Nothing would happen to Bree. Nothing _could_ happen to Bree. She was all I had.

"Ray, you're so crazy sometimes," Bree told me, taking my hand and leading me down the stairs.

"Yeah, I know," I replied as we reached the kitchen table.

We sat at the table, Breanne getting out her colored pencils and turning to a page in her coloring book. "Want to color with me?" she asked.

I sighed dramatically as if I didn't want to, but grinned. "Alright. Fine…but only because I'm so happy."

"Then you must always be happy," Bree said, scooting her chair closer to ime and pouring her colored pencils out of the box.

"Shouldn't you have outgrown coloring books by now?" I asked. "You're almost ten."

"Shouldn't _you_ have outgrown them by now?" Bree countered. "You're almost 17."

I laughed. She was right. I always colored with her…despite the fact that I had stopped coloring in first grade. Something about her made me start again once she was born. In fact, I could remember the day I first started coloring with her.

She had just started kindergarten. Her only homework was to color a picture any way she wanted. She had been sitting at the kitchen table the same way she was now—feet in her seat, knees on the table, body bent over her work as if her life depended on it. I'd just gotten home from school. I'd wanted nothing more than to take a shower and collapse on the bed—even at 12, I was obsessed with soccer. But as I threw my gym back and backpack on the ground, I'd looked over at the kitchen table where Bree was hunched over her work. A blue colored pencil rolled onto the ground. I walked over to pick it up and handed it back to her. She'd smiled her thanks but didn't take it from my hand as she continued coloring a tree pink. I had looked at her picture. Nothing was colored normally in it. I'd almost laughed, but had stopped when I saw and owl's hole in the tree Bree was coloring.

"Here," I said. "This would look nice." I started coloring the hole blue. At first Bree had stopped abruptly and stared, startled and probably about to scream that he had _ruined_ her color book page; but then she realized that it actually looked really good.

So she had continued coloring the tree as I filled in the tree hole. We'd continued like this until the entire page was colored—me adding little odds and ends to complete something while Bree colored the big drawings.

Once we'd finished, Bree had stood in her chair to examine our work from a distance.

"What do you think?" I had asked.

She continued staring at the picture for a few more minutes, then smiled triumphantly. "It's perfect!" she'd squealed.

"Well, great," I'd replied, standing up. "I guess that's my cue to shower and hit the hay."

"Hit the hay?" she'd asked.

"Sleep."

"Oh." She giggled. "I knew that."

I laughed and started to walk up the stairs.

"Oh, and Ray?" she'd called after me.

"Yeah?" I stopped and looked at her.

"Thanks for coloring with me. It was fun."

"No problem," I'd replied, smiling as I continued up the stairs and headed to my room.

If I were any other older brother, that day of coloring wouldn't mean so much to me. But I love her unconditionally for many reasons, and any time—no matter what I was doing—that I could spend with her was time well spent.

"Okay," Bree said, bringing me back to the present. "You color the sky and the tree, I'll color the ground and the baby kitten, and we both can color the mama kitten." Ever since that day, Bree had gotten a lot more assertive as to who colored what, but I didn't mind.

"Alright," I said, reaching for the sky blue colored pencil. Bree's hand beat me to it. "Bree?"

"Yeah?"

"What'd you get the blue for? You don't even need it."

"Yeah I do. I'm coloring the baby kitten."

"Blue?"

"Yup," Bree replied, coloring furiously.

I shook my head. "So what am I supposed to color the sky with?"

"Duh," Bree replied. "Use your imagination."

"I don't need to use my imagination. The sky's blue!"

Bree laughed. "Ray, you are so unoriginal. You've got to spice up things sometimes. Take chances."

I grinned. Sometimes Bree was so…worldly, even when she had no idea what she was talking about.

She looked at me and smiled broadly. She was missing a front tooth, so her tongue pushed through the tiny hole, making her look even more adorable.

"Okay, Picasso, what color should I use for the sky?" I asked, teasingly.

She thought about it for a minute then grinned. "Brown!"

"Brown!" That was the most ridiculous thing I had heard from her. I was expecting purple or green even. You would have thought that as she grew older, Bree would begin to color things more realistically; but it seemed she was going in the opposite direction. "You want me to color the sky _brown_!"

"See, Ray? It's that kind of thinking that has gotten out poor society in the predicament it's in now. Stuck in the set box that molds our very existence."

I blinked. "What?"

She laughed and handed me the brown colored pencil. "Just color the sky."

After we were finished coloring—the picture looked very…unnerving to say the least—I tried to make a dinner for Bree, but she insisted on PopTarts. So, I made her two blueberry PopTarts, and headed upstairs to shower. I smelled disgusting. In fact, I was surprised Bree had even put up with me for so long. After smelling something foul in my room and searching for at least five minutes before realizing that smell was _me_, I honestly thought the house was going to burn down. Can't too much odor cause a fire? Maybe _that's_ why she didn't want me to make her a legit dinner. She couldn't put up with me in the same room for that long.

Immediately, I launched into the bathroom connected to my room. I took a long, warm shower that relaxed me to the point of nearly falling asleep while in the shower. My body hygiene taken care of, I walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around my waist and fell onto the bed. Almost before my head touched the pillow, I was fast asleep.

When I woke up, the sun was setting. I knew my dad would be home soon. I scrambled up, tripping over the fallen towel.

"Really, Ray?" I muttered to myself. "You forgot to dress _before_ you fell asleep?"

I dressed quickly and headed down the stairs, immediately going into the kitchen and scrambling through the refrigerator. I didn't know what I could make for dinner in so little time that my father would still enjoy.

"Bree," I called, still searching through the fridge.

"Don't worry about Dad," she said. "I called and told him that I felt like eating out and wanted him to pick us up some dinner."

I sighed with relief, sinking to the floor. I sat like this for a second until I realized Bree was standing right in front of me and didn't understand why it was such a big deal to me. I stood up quickly. "So, what did he say he was going to bring?"

"Chinese!" she squealed. "Now I can practice using my chopsticks!"

"Did you remind him to ask for a pair?" No one but Bree used chopsticks and sometimes Dad would forget to ask for a pair.

"Yep!" she said victoriously. "Everything's going to be perfect!"

I laughed at her misguided enthusiasm. It didn't take much for a situation to be labeled as "perfect" by Bree.

"Well," I replied, picking her up and sitting her on the couch. "You can get back to your cartoons. I've got to clean up."

"No you don't," Bree countered as I turned to leave. "I already cleaned up for you."

I looked around. She was right. The place looked spotless—not that it ever looked bad to begin with. "Bree, how many times have I told you that it's not your place to clean up? If Dad saw you do that, he'd go berserk."

"But why?" she asked. "All the girls at my school clean up after themselves. And everyone else, too. They say you have to learn how to clean up or you'll be a bad, spoiled kid."

"Well, don't listen to everything you hear, Bree," I replied, even though her friends at school were right. She was too young to understand what was going on at home, and I wouldn't want to tell her anyway. "Dad wants to treat you like a princess. Do you know of any princesses that clean up after themselves?"

"Cinderella," Bree replied. "And she's my _favorite _princess."

I sighed. Life was so hard these days. "Yeah, but Cinderella had to clean _before_ she was a princess. She had to clean when she had an evil family that didn't want her to have any fun. But you don't have an evil family, do you?"

"No," she said dejectedly.

"So you have no need to clean. Just enjoy your cartoons." I turned around to leave again.

"But Ray," she called.

I stopped. "Yes?"

"What about you? If I'm a princess, you're a prince. How come princes have to clean?"

I sighed. _Who knows, Bree?_ I thought. "That's just how it is, Bree," I told her. "Some things are just meant to be."

"Well, I don't like it," Bree said, crossing her arms.

I chuckled a little to myself. "I don't know too many people that do," I mumbled, walking to the kitchen to set the table.

When my Dad got home, Bree's excitement spread to everyone. We had a very relaxed dinner…something that hadn't happened for a while.

Bree talked about everything—absolutely _everything_—and my Dad even shared a few laughs and tidbits of his day. Nothing interesting to me, of course—I _hate_ business—but Bree was fascinated. Her eagerness to hear about it was almost laughable…but I didn't laugh. No need to draw unnecessary attention to myself when everyone was in a good mood.

Unfortunately, dinner had to end at some point. When it did, Dad sent Bree off to her room. I didn't dare leave the table without him dismissing me. I just gathered the paper plates and eating utensils and put them in front of me, ready to be thrown away as soon as he was done with me.

"Why did Breanne want me to order out today, Raymond?"

I flinched. I should have known Bree's easy fix was too good to be true. "I don't know," I whispered.

"Don't give me that," he growled. "Let me repeat myself. Why did she want me to order out?" he asked slowly between clenched teeth.

"I was trying to figure out what to make when she told me not to worry about it. She said she felt like eating out and called you. I swear," I said quickly.

"Stand up," he ordered.

I obeyed him.

"Come here."

I went to stand in front of him.

"Turn around."

I did so, tensing up. I knew what was coming.

The force sent me sprawling onto the ground, nearly being knocked out by the chair beside me. I didn't dare move, but stayed where I was, the deep pain of my father's fist flying into my back reverberating around my spine. I heard him get up. "Are you crying?" he demanded.

"No, sir," I replied.

"Let me see."

I painfully stood up to let him look into my eyes. He smiled slightly then punched me hard in my stomach. I doubled over in excruciating pain, landing solidly on my knees as I felt the air rush out of me.

"How about now?" he asked. "You crying?"

I looked up at him. "No, sir."

He smirked. "Good." He began walking up the stairs. "You're a tough kid, Raymond," he called over his shoulder. "Clean up."

After several agonizing minutes of writhing on the ground, trying to get enough oxygen in my system, and slowly moving my back to see if it still worked, I stood up and did as my father said. I threw away all of the paper plates and plastic forks as well as Bree's chopsticks. Then I put the cartons of leftover Chinese food in the refrigerator. I wiped down the table and pushed the chairs in, leaving no evidence of anyone having sat their minutes before.

I turned off the TV, which Bree had left on in her excitement to finally eat Chinese food again and headed upstairs to start on and finish my homework. None of it was hard, except for the English. I didn't like to read or express myself through writing. I had too much to express, and it'd only end up with me getting weird looks from the teachers. Actually, I'd taken and passed the honours English test, but refused the invitation to be in the class. I didn't have time for extra work, especially when it involved being creative and _writing_. I had no place for that in my life.

"Ray?" I heard Bree's small tired voice say as she creeped into my room.

"Bree?" I whispered. "Get into bed. Dad's about to tuck you in."

"I know," she said. "But I wanted to say good night."

"I always say good night to you, Bree. Right after Dad says good night to me."

She shuffled her feet and looked to the ground. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

I smiled at her, even though I felt wary at her question. "What's wrong?" I asked.

She sat in my lap. "I don't know. I just don't feel right. Can I please sleep in here?"

"Go on to your bed so Dad can tuck you in and if you haven't fallen asleep by the time he's said good night to me, you can come in."

Her eyes brightened. "Really?"

I smiled. "Anything for you, Bree."

She hugged me. "I love you, Ray."

"I love you, too," I replied, hugging her back. "Now hurry back in your room."

"Okay," she said and left.

I couldn't help but smile after her, even though I had no idea what Dad would think of it. He didn't like me being too close to Bree. No doubt he'd hate that Bree would rather sleep with me than him.

I was just about to finish with my biology homework when my dad walked in. He looked kind of angry, and I cringed. What if Bree had told him she was going to sleep in my room tonight? He definitely wouldn't let that slide without hitting me. He walked slowly to my desk where I was nervously turning my pencil over in my hands. His fist slammed down on my desk, causing me to jump involuntarily. I closed my eyes. I knew that sign of weakness was going to result in a punch.

"Did you just jump, Raymond?"

I wanted shake my head, but I knew that would only lead to more punishment. "Yes, sir," I whispered, looking up to meet his eye.

He nodded approvingly. "A real man always tells the truth and accepts when he's wrong. You know you're wrong, right?"

"Yes, sir," I replied, even though I knew no such thing. Who _wouldn't_ be afraid of an abusive father.

"Real men have no fear," he said as if answering my unspoken question. "They aren't afraid of anything—no matter how terrible it is. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," I replied quietly.

"Good," he said. He cuffed me hard on the ear, causing me to fall out of my chair and slam my head against one of the legs of my desk. I muffled a sharp cry of pain. "You crying?" he asked sharply.

"No, sir," I replied, scrambling up so he could see my face. My head throbbed mercilessly and I could see stars; but I didn't dare let my father see that.

"Good," he said, walking out of the room.

I watched him leave and listened for his footsteps. Every noise and each movement seemed to be amplified a thousand times, and my head could only handle so much. I collapsed on the ground, curling into the fetal position until my head cleared enough for me to move without feeling like my head was being stabbed repeatedly. Finally, I was able to stand again. I stumbled over to my desk and tried to concentrate on finishing those last few math problems, but I couldn't. It was only a few minutes after ten, but I decided to go to sleep. It's not like I could do anything else anyway. I changed into boxers and a cotton t-shirt then crawled into bed. I remembered I'd forgotten to turn off the lamp by my desk, but couldn't move to do it.

I'd almost fallen asleep when I heard my door creak open. I groaned because the noise bothered me and made my head start pounding again.

"Ray?" I heard Bree whisper. I cringed. It sounded to me like she'd just yelled into a megaphone.

Slowly getting up, I turned to her. "Yeah?" I replied softly.

"I'm not asleep yet. Can I come in here?"

I'd forgotten about that. "Oh, yeah," I said.

"Can I turn off this light?" she asked, motioning toward the lamp.

"Sure," I replied, scooting over to make room for her in my bed.

She crawled in and snuggled against my chest, wrapping her tiny arms around my waist.

"You seem very tired," she said.

"Yeah. I am pretty tired," I replied.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Sure."

"Well, you don't sound like it."

"I'm sorry," I replied.

"I don't think it's your fault," she whispered, snuggling closer to me.

I stiffened and looked down at her. "Then who's fault do you think it is?" I asked quietly.

"Not yours," she replied, yawning and closing her eyes.

I relaxed a bit. She didn't expect anything of Dad. That was good. She's already lost her mother; I'd hate it if she lost her dad, too. I never wanted her to be like me. I wanted her to be blissfully unaware of the evil around her.

"Good night, Ray," she said—her final words before she drifted off into dreamland.

"Good night, Bree," I replied, wrapping my arms around her. "I love you," I whispered into her hair. "And Dad does, too."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope it was worth the wait. *sees everyone readying their tomatoes and put hands in the air* Okay, okay!<strong>

**I know NOTHING is worth such a long wait...but I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. It took a lot out of me but I finally locked myself in my room and said I wouldn't leave until the chapter was finished. It worked.**

**Please review. Yes, even review if all you have to say is that you hate because I'm such a failure and why can't I just update like a regular person.**

**It was actualy your reviews that made me so keen to finish this chapter. **

**You guys inspire me (your stories, your reviews, your forums, everything) and I just wanted you to know that.**

**Thank you so much for not kicking me off of Fanfiction (although the night is still young, I guess).**

**Now, if you don't mind, I'd like some suggestions. I've written a lot of future chapters and scenes...but I need things to help me work up to those scenes.**

**And please tell me what you think. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Do you have any suggestions?**

**I realize it is not perfect because I was in such a rush to get it to you that I didn't do much editing.**

**But anyway...Kanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi, everyone. Long time, no see, I know. Please forgive me. **

**I would just like to point out that this chapter was especially hard for me (even harder than the last chapter...which was immensely difficult to write). I changed it at least 14 times...only to change it back to the original. What you are about to read is the original.**

**If you guys don't like it, I can try to rewrite it. I will definitely understand if you don't. It just suddenly turned the way it did. I was so shocked by it that I could barely write the closing paragraphs to end the chapter.**

**Ultimately, though, I think I really like this chapter. I think my favorite so far is Chapter 5...but I'm still pretty proud of this chapter. At this very moment I'm putting together my thoughts for the next chapter (they are swirling around in a whirlwind. Obviously, my brain has a lot to say about what's going on in this story)...but if you guys don't like it, I'll understand and try to fix it.**

**Before you read the next installment to this story, I'd like to acknowledge four people who reviewed my last chapter (the only four who did): The Angel of Randomsity, Readingcutie428, DramaQueen127, and MoreThanMyName. **

**Thank you guys so much for reading and continuing to follow me despite my terrible writing skills and inability to update regularly. This story started off so smoothly...but it just took a life of it's own and I'm still trying to cope with the fact that it's not _my_ story anymore. So thank you guys for reviewing anyway.**

**And MoreThanMyName, it was your review that I just happened to see so many weeks after the others that made me finish up this chapter and stop stressing about it. So thank you especially.**

**Now, without further ado, Chapter 6!**

**(p.s. this is where I would insert a disclaimer)**

* * *

><p>"Hello?" Scott asked groggily as he answered his phone.<p>

"EMERGENCY BAND MEETING!" Mo screamed into his ear.

He nearly dropped the phone. "Mo," he whined, rubbing his temple.

"What?" she replied, sounding slightly irritated. "Wake up. Get up, Scott. We have an EMERGENCY. BAND. MEETING. Wake up!"

"Okay, okay!" he replied, falling out of bed.

"Good," she said, satisfied that the loud thumps coming from the phone meant he was up and attempting to get ready. "We're meeting by the bleachers pronto, so hurry up. All the others are already headed to school."

"Mo?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"You're really killing me."

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Whatever. Up, up, up!" She hung up the phone.

Smiling to himself he quickly dressed, using the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and grabbing his backpack. He checked his wallet as he got in the car to make sure he had enough money to buy a breakfast. He was hungry. Then he started the car and headed to school, wondering what in the world called for an emergency band meeting this early in the morning.

Meanwhile, Olivia and Charlie had already arrived at the bleachers. They had wasted no time and taken their bikes. Along with Mo, they were the closest to Mesa High; so it made sense that they were there.

"So what's this 'emergency meeting' about?" Charlie asked Olivia.

"I don't know," Olivia replied unconvincingly.

"Come on," Charlie said. "I know you know, Olivia. Mo called the meeting and she wouldn't have done so without your okay…which is weird because you say okay to everything so she really doesn't need your okay because she already knows you're going to say okay, but…I mean…who knows, right?"

Olivia looked at him, then laughed. "What's gotten into you today?" she asked.

He sprawled across the bleacher's bench. "So early," he complained. "Ugg…"

She laughed again. How he could go from completely energetic to zombie-like in five seconds flat amazed her.

"I drank coffee this morning," he said suddenly, bouncing up. He frowned. "I hate coffee, though." He shrugged. "But I drank it anyway."

Olivia laughed again. "Well, it's working."

"Really?" he asked. "I can't tell. I'm still soooo tired," he said, laying down on the bench again.

She smiled. This was going to be an interesting day.

Wen sat in the passenger seat of Sydney's car, leaning his head against the window uninterestedly. Sydney—obviously not taking the hint—tried making small talk.

"So, Wen, I don't remember you ever leaving for school this early."

"I don't," he replied.

"Then what's happening? Why do you need to leave so early now?"

"It's for the band," he said simply.

She sighed to herself, making him feel immediately terrible. He didn't mean to be so cold toward her. He'd honestly gotten over his hatred of her. As a matter of fact, they'd gotten along quite nicely since the day she picked him up from the holding cell. But him tolerating her and _liking_ her were two different things. Sometimes she was just plain _annoying_. This was one of those times. She'd already gotten on his bad side; it was early in the morning. Wen didn't really like to talk early in the morning. He was a nice guy, so he wouldn't mind simple pleasantries…but then he'd want you to stop talking. Sydney just didn't seem to know the definition of _stop_. She just kept going on and on and on about the stupidest things.

He was the first one Mo had called after confirming the meeting with Olivia, so he'd been ready fairly quickly. He had been rummaging through the fridge, looking for something quick to eat when she had come down the stairs. "Wen?" she'd asked. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Oh, I—" he started to say.

"You have to get to school?" she asked.

He just nodded, the fatigue already beginning to sink in.

"Me, too! I can drive you," she said, heading back up the stairs. "Just let me finish getting ready…"

"No, it's okay," he had called after her; but it was no use. She'd already gone. He groaned, knowing he was not going to enjoy the ride.

"You know," she said as she continued driving, bringing Wen out of his flashback. "I'm so glad we're doing this."

Wen nodded warily, staring out of the window and biting his lip to avoid saying something he'd regret.

"Aren't you?" she inquired, glancing at him when he didn't reply. When he kept silent yet again, she continued. "I mean, we're getting to spend this quality time together and it's been a long time. I think we should do this more often. Don't you?"

Wen shook his head slightly, wishing he could have just walked.

Sydney glanced over at him again, furrowing her brows. "Well," she continued. "_I _think we should. Yep. Definitely. How about tomorrow?"

Wen's eyes widened. He quickly turned to Sydney. "No!" he nearly screamed. Noticing her startled look, he backtracked. "I mean, there's no need. I already have a ride to school every day. It's just that today…I had to get there early. And I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. That wouldn't be fair."

"Oh, it wouldn't be a problem."

"Yes," Wen insisted. "It would."

"How?"

_You'd annoy the crap out of me_, Wen thought. _And possibly make me jump out of the car._ "Trust me," he said. "The schedules we have now are fine. It's for the best." He put on his most convincing smile.

She smiled back, making Wen think she was one of the stupidest women in the world. "Maybe some other time, then. When our schedules change."

"Yeah," Wen said, laughing slightly. Then he turned completely, looking out of the window and coughing in a way he hoped signified that the conversation was completely _over_.

Finally. _Finally._ FINALLY, they arrived on school campus. Wen was out of the passenger seat before the car had even slowed down. "See you later, Syndey!" he called over his shoulder, running toward the bleachers. He reached Olivia and Charlie, breathing a sigh of relief as he watched Syndey pull out of the school parking lot.

"What's wrong with you?" Olivia asked, laughing as Charlie tried to do a headstand.

"Sydney," Wen said simply.

Olivia frowned. "I thought you'd forgiven her, Wen."

"You can forgive an annoying person, but that doesn't change the fact that they're annoying."

Olivia laughed a bit. "She can't be that bad."

"You can't be that nice. Oh, wait. You are."

"Hey, Wen!" Charlie yelled, running up to him. "When'd you get here? I was just looking at the spot where you were standing not 5 seconds ago and I didn't see anything but the next time I looked, there you were! What happened? Did you apparate? DUDE, that's so awesome! I didn't know you went to Hogwarts! Wait, Hogwarts isn't real. So you couldn't have gone to Hogwarts. So what DID you do? I'm so confused!"

Olivia laughed harder. She walked over to Charlie. "Here, sit on the bleachers," she said, leading her friend to sit. "You need to calm down."

He smiled up at Olivia. "You're right. You know what, Olivia? You'd be great to work at a nursing home. You'd be really nice to old people."

She smiled. "I'll keep that in mind." Turning back to Wen, she said. "I'm sure you'll get used to Sydney. Maybe she's just acting that way to fit in with you. Once she realizes more about you, she'll start acting normal again."

He shook his head dubiously and turned away. "Maybe."

She frowned. "Wen…" she said, stepping toward him.

"Don't worry about it, Olivia," Wen said, turning away. "It's not your problem."

"But I can't stand to see you so low."

"Don't worry about it," he repeated. "It's really not that big a deal."

"Your tone of voice is saying something completely different," Olivia replied.

Wen laughed, shaking his head.

"What?" Olivia asked.

He turned toward her. "Nothing. It's just…you're…sometimes you…I don't know." He laughed again.

Olivia blushed. She was about to say something when Mo arrived.

"Hey, you two!" she said, grinning at them. "How are you this morning?"

"Hey, Mo," Olivia replied, awkwardly turning away from Wen and trying to cover her blush. "I'm great. How are you?"

"Just fine," she replied, eyeing them suspiciously. "How about the rest of you?" She turned to Wen and Charlie.

"Well, I'm tired," Wen replied. "And Charlie's…well…He had coffee this morning."

"Coffee?" Mo asked incredulously. "Oh, God. This can't be good."

"Shhh," Olivia said. "He's sleeping…For now."

Mo nodded, "Let's make the most of it. Wait, where's Scott? He should be here by now. He drove."

"I don't know," Olivia shrugged. "I haven't seen him."

"I swear, if he went back to sleep, I'll—"

"Calm down," Olivia said, smiling. "I'm sure he's on his way."

"Yeah," Wen added. "Scott moves like a turtle in the morning. And talks like one, too."

Mo crossed her arms. "A turtle would have been here an hour ago. We can't start the meeting without him."

"Speaking of the meeting," Wen said, "what is it even about?"

"What else would it be about?" Mo asked matter-of-factly.

"I don't know," Wen whispered, more to himself than the fiery Mo.

Mo turned on her heel toward the student parking lot. "That was a _rhetorical_ question."

Wen turned to Olivia and raised his eyebrows.

"Stella," she mouthed.

His eyes widened, and he nodded in understanding.

"Where the heck is Scott?" Olivia and Wen heard Mo mutter under her breath. "When he gets here, I'm going to kill him. Ugg. Stupid Juniors, with their cars and their freedom. He must think he's so cool. American boys are all the same. It's ridiculous…"

The two tuned out her rant. Wen turned to Olivia, rubbing the back of his neck.

She smiled shyly at the ground, not daring enough to talk to him. The silence between them was comfortable, if a little awkward, so she didn't mind it.

Suddenly, Charlie awoke. "Mo!" he screamed, running to her. "When'd you get here? Did you apparate, too?" Okay, guys, this is so unfair. I wanna go to Hogwarts! Oh, wait, you can't go to Hogwarts. You go to school here! I'm so confused," he whined.

Everyone just stared at him.

"Don't you just love mornings? It's bright and early! Hey!" he said, "We can go eat somewhere and get the early bird special! But wait, isn't that just for old people? You think we could pass for old people? I think Wen could. Not because he's old, but because he's all mature and stuff, right? And because he's a redhead. No one will look at him twice because they'll be afraid that he'll steal their souls. Because, you know, gingers do that. OH MY GOD!" he suddenly exclaimed, gasping, "What if Wen already stole their souls!"

Everyone just stared at him, not sure if they should laugh, feel sorry for Wen, or take Charlie to a mental hospital.

Wait, that'd be great!" Charlie exclaimed. "Then they'd be so brain dead that they'd give us the special. Maybe we'd even get in free!"

"Charlie," Mo said, laughing, "What restaurant here even offers an early bird special?"

Charlie frowned, blinking his eyes at the sun. He crossed his arms. "You win this round, Mo."

His friends laughed.

"What's so funny?" He demanded.

"What's _not_ funny?" Mo replied.

Charlie yawned. "I'm tired."

Everyone laughed harder.

Olivia led Charlie to the bleachers again, trying and failing to contain her laughter. "No more coffee for you, Charlie."

"Goodnight, Olivia," Charlie replied sleepily.

It took all of her strength to not laugh again. She patted his head then walked back to Wen and Mo, who were doubled over in laughter.

"Shh," she whispered. "Stop laughing. If he doesn't sleep now, his entire day will be ruined."

"You're right, Olivia," Mo said, stifling her laughter.

Wen snorted in laughter.

"Wen!" the girls whispered.

"I'm sorry!" he replied. "It just came out!"

They stared at him for a moment longer, then they all three burst out laughing again.

"Shhh!" Olivia and Mo said together.

"What's so funny and why do we need to be quiet?" Scott asked, wrapping an arm around Mo and kissing her cheek.

"Charlie," Wen replied.

Mo whipped around. "Where were you?" She demanded. "You should've been the first one here! You drove!"

He grinned, holding both his hands in the air innocently.

"Well, I know what took him so long," Wen said.

"What?" Mo asked, whipping her head around to look at him.

Wen motioned to Scott's hands, one of which was holding a large bag from McDonald's, the other holding a small, covered cup.

"You went to McDonald's!" Mo exclaimed.

"Remember," Olivia whispered, "Charlie's still asleep."

"I can't _believe_ you!" Mo continued, lowering her voice slightly.

"Mo," Scott said, still grinning, "Listen—"

"And you're just grinning like this is _funny_!" Mo continued. "It's not funny!"

Scott flashed her a cheeky look. "Well, judging by the laughs you were trying to cover up a few seconds ago, _something_ was very funny."

Olivia and Wen cringed. Scott was going to regret this.

"_WHAT!_" Mo yelled, outraged and causing Olivia and Wen to cringe again. At this rate, the entire town would be awake, let alone Charlie.

Scott smiled at her, putting the bag and cup on the bleachers and enveloping Mo in a hug. "Relax, Mo," he said, kissing her cheek again.

"Relax? Relax!" Mo replied, struggling to slip out of Scott's arms. He just tightened his hold around her, laughing to himself.

"Yes," he said into her hair. "Calm down or I'm not letting you go. And your tea will get cold."

"Tea?" Mo asked, looking up at him, surprised.

He nodded. "Yep."

"Let me go," she said gentler.

He did as she asked then picked up the cup. "I made it with those special spices you gave me that time," he said proudly.

Olivia turned to Wen. "Special spices?" she mouthed.

"That time?" he mouthed in reply.

They both shrugged.

"It took me a couple of times," he continued, "but eventually I got it down. And then I went to McDonald's to get something to eat."

"Oh, Scott," Mo said, taking the cup in her hands. "That was so sweet." She hugged him. "Thank you."

He grinned. "You know," he said, "I have half a mind to make you angry again. You look beautiful when you're angry."

"Oh, be quiet," Mo replied playfully as she took a sip of her tea. "Alright," she turned to Olivia and Wen, "It's time to begin the band meeting."

"What about Stella?" Scott asked. "She's not here."

"I know," Mo replied. "This band meeting is _about_ her."

Scott groaned. "Here we go again," he mumbled.

Mo made a point of ignoring him. "Anyway," she continued, "We all know there's something wrong with Stella. And, thanks to Scott and Wen, we know _what's_ wrong with her. Now we need to figure out what we can do to make her feel better."

"Mo, right now I think the best thing we can do for Stella is give her space."

"I think Scott's right," Wen said. "It'd be better for now if we left her alone. We'll only end up getting into another argument."

"That's for Olivia and me to decide," Mo said. She turned to Wen. "Tell us what happened with Stella."

Wen shook his head.

"What?" Mo exclaimed.

Olivia turned to him. "Why?" she asked quietly. She was just as curious as Mo to find out about Stella…except she wasn't quite so unrelenting.

"Because this isn't right," he replied, more to Mo than Olivia.

Mo scoffed. "Oh, give me a break, Wen."

"No, I'm serious, Mo. You called an emergency _band_ meeting. That implies that the whole _band_ shows up. Instead, you leave out Stella. Stella's the whole reason we're a band. Stella _is_ the band…and you didn't even invite her!"

"No, Wen," Mo replied, stepping closer to him. "I didn't invite her because this meeting is _about_ her. We need to talk," she said slowly, "about Stella or else this 'band' won't be a band anymore!"

"We don't need to talk _about_ Stella! We need to talk _to_ Stella," Wen argued. He was being amazingly persistent and outspoken. Olivia found that a argument of Lemonade Mouth's keyboardist and bassist was far from peaceful or easily resolved. "You're talking like you want to kick her out of the band!"

Mo fumed. "Ugg! Well maybe I _DO_ want to kick her out of the band!"

Everyone froze. No one, not even Mo herself, could believe what she'd just said.

Wen was the first to recover. He stared at Mo in disbelief and shook his head. "This band meeting is over." He looked at Mo one last time, then stalked off.

"Wen, wait," Olivia yelled after him.

He didn't reply.

"Mo—" Olivia started.

Mo was leaving as well. She was outpacing Wen, walking quickly and determinedly to the student parking lot.

"Scott," Olivia whispered.

He looked at her sadly. "I'm sure she didn't mean it, Olivia," he said softly.

She nodded.

"I have to catch up with her," he said, grabbing his McDonald's bag. "She's headed to my car."

"Okay," Olivia replied quietly, watching as he ran to catch up with his girlfriend.

She looked at the three receding figures, aching to run up to Wen and talk to him. She knew he needed someone to vent to. Since Scott would be preoccupied with o and Charlie was asleep, she was his only other option…unless he went to Lyze. Yes, Lyze was one of his friends, thought they hadn't been as close since Lemonade Mouth formed, she knew.

Sighing and holding back her tears, Olivia turned to Charlie and sat beside him. As much as she wanted to talk to Wen, she didn't know what to say. She couldn't possibly talk to him without blushing, which wouldn't help the situation.

Besides, Charlie needed someone to be there when he woke up…or wake him up. He was out cold.

Someone needed to explain to him that the band was falling apart.

* * *

><p><strong>So, that was Chapter 6, everyone.<strong>

**I hope you liked it.**

**Please review and tell me what you want me to hear.**

**Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Want to see more of something? Want to see less of something (sorry, if the little Wenlivia/Scohini made you gag. Like I said, the story does what it does)?**

**Please tell me. I reallly appreciate your reviews, and now more than anytime else, they keep me going. I have exams this week (as I had last week), so I don't think I'll be able to update anything...but reading your reviews actually helps me think up ideas, especially when you guys have ideas.**

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**-Alaska**

**Sidenote: Also, I'm kind of thinking about changing the description of the story. I like it...but I think the story is changing from it. So, if you guys have any better ideas, why don't you PM me a description? It can be a mini contest. The best one becomes the new description with it's owner's name also included (and featured in the lastest chapter). Remember that the limit is 255 characters (and you might want to leave enough space that your name can be mentioned in the description as well).**

**If you don't think the description needs to be changed or think there's too little information for it to be changed yet, please say so and why in a review.**

**Thanks, again!**


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